The Emotion Amplification
by Zephyr.Camida
Summary: Sheldon felt like his relationship and growing intimacy with Amy was akin to a torrid roller coaster; the more they progressed, the more he felt like he was tilting off the rails and heading down the steepest of declines. He was falling, falling, falling. (Rated M for sexual content.)
1. Platonic to Romantic

**The Emotion Amplification**

Author's Note: This. This is what I should have been posting, but Within Darkness and Entropy reared its head. Luckily I have a lot of this written already so here is the first chapter...There's a lot of Sheldon POV out there lately. Haha, here's one more for the Shamy community. ;)

Disclaimer: I do not own The Big Bang Theory or any of its amazing characters.

* * *

Chapter 1-

It was a popular theory amongst his friends that Sheldon was extremely stunted in the emotional department, and for the longest time, Sheldon never bothered to tell them otherwise. What was the point in correcting them? He had plenty of emotions, just like everyone else, but he chose to put said emotions towards _important_ matters. Like physics (specifically string theory), maintaining absolute order in his life, and keeping all the people around him at as safe a distance as possible.

And with Leonard and company partaking in ridiculous activities such as personal social interaction, going out to less than sterile eating facilities, and even more disturbing, sexual encounters with more than a few female partners, Sheldon wanted to keep them as far away from him as possible. It was all a bunch of nonsense that he wanted absolutely no part in, and that opinion would never change. Of that, he was certain.

Years later, against Sheldon's will, that certainty was abruptly tossed under a bus and ran off the edge of a deep, deep canyon as he stood at the counter of a small, quaint coffee shop next to a petite woman in a clashing, chaotic arrangement of clothing whom he was forced to meet under the theoretical threat of hidden soiled hosiery in his living quarters.

Amy Farrah Fowler, quite possibly the closest being in existence to match his intellect and quirky charm, had walked into his life like a quiet breeze of fresh air. When was the last time Sheldon was able to freely be himself without being reprimanded or judged? When he invented ridiculous (Leonard's words, not his) games to stimulate the senses and challenge the mind, Amy was always, always willing to play along. So, when did this friendship with this female, a rare fellow Homo Novus, get flipped into a frighteningly different trajectory?

* * *

Sheldon could recall it down the very seconds; the moment that he sat in three seconds of silence as he weighed his options between rekindling a boy-slash-friend-slash-girl-slash-friend status with the now no longer quiet breeze, but bold gust that was Amy. He was one hundred percent certain that diving back into any sort of relationship with her would drag him unceremoniously and unmercifully under an unknown current, and that feeling of uncertainty as to whether he could escape from it ate at him from the inside.

He wasn't a fool; even he vaguely knew what Leonard and his mother were plotting. He merely went along with their little ploy simply because he wasn't about to admit that he missed the neurobiologist.

Because he hadn't, just so the world knows. Conversing with her was mentally stimulating, dealing with her was much less tedious than dealing with Leonard or Penny, and much less annoying than Howard or Rajesh. Nothing more, nothing less.

He could call it whatever he wanted, but that didn't change the indisputable fact that this single decision had ultimately altered nearly every single paradigm he had painstakingly carved for himself over his thirty years of life. Even now, looking back on it, Sheldon still felt a nostalgic tingle in his brain of the subtle buzz that had begun ringing ever since that day. A warning he was never quite able to decipher.

After that, life had more or less returned to normal. Sheldon was still on his set path to a Nobel Prize, he still mused happily about the prospect of cities being named after him in dedication of his greatness. He didn't understand for the life of him why his friends always insisted on making a fuss about the whole ordeal.

The fact that she was female (a _woman_) didn't make one lick a difference to Sheldon. One is not able to choose the gender they are born, who was he to treat her any different because she had the components of a female human being? Besides, theirs was 'a relationship of the mind', he reminded himself and his friends. Over time, Sheldon found himself having to restate that claim, over and over until he was no longer sure whether the mantra was more for them for himself.

Regardless, he repeated the phrase endlessly until it slowly became a dull trill in the back of his mind.

It wasn't until one random day when he and Amy were having tea that he started to really question his very own motives. They had spent the afternoon at a small seminar with speaker Brian Greene, a so called noted physicist (Sheldon scoffed at the notion) who used hogwash methods to dumb down his research for the simple-minded. He had brought Amy on the guise of unwinding and as Amy herself had put it, to goof off for once.

Apparently, goofing off also including trivial involvements with gossip circulating within their mutual circle of friends. Sheldon humored her (because, also apparently, he did that for her too) and listened as she gave him the '411'. He couldn't have cared less about Howard's rare successful romance with the pint-sized, downright frightening blonde, Bernadette, nor the rocky trajectory of their love life. But color him interested when the speed of which the rumor had spread spurred Amy to propose an experiment utilizing meme theory.

Ah, experiments, that was something Sheldon would thoroughly enjoy. He'd told her just that, humorously adding that she was pulling him into the social sciences.

That was when the warning bell sounded too late.

"You're a vixen, Amy Farrah Fowler."

It wasn't until Amy's eyes averted in a bashful manner that he froze, tea mug lingering at his lips. Hidden behind a poker face, Sheldon's mind was chastising him with rapid fire precision. _What did you just say? Where did that affectionate tone come from? What was with that look you gave her? Are you a ravenous wolf eying a lamb? _He carefully recovered his frantic mind as Amy started to formulate the details.

"How about a flower garden as the control?" A suitable suggestion, it sure sounded dull enough for Sheldon. "Now, what could be tantalizing enough for-"

"What if we told them that we engaged in coitus?"

_Wait, what? _His brain was in an uproar once again. _Where did THAT come from? Has being around the rest of your sex-crazed friends altered your cognitive functions? _Sheldon caught Amy watching him silently, the cogs turning in her vast mind.

"Indeed. As...unrealistic as that event is, I doubt anyone in our circle would be intuitive enough to find suspicion in our claims. ...Acceptable," she smiled, her gaze rose to meet Sheldon's, green eyes shining with mirth and hints of mischief. Sheldon felt an indescribable tug in his chest at that moment.

One second later, he abruptly buried it, and that was that.

He wasn't allowed a long period of reprieve though, as Sheldon would soon find that physical anomaly would return with fervent force only a week or so later. And what was the reason for that?

She kissed him. Amy had kissed him. Amy Farrah Fowler kissed Sheldon Lee Cooper. No matter how he worded that statement, his brain simply stumbled in circles trying to file that particular piece of reality away into the proper sector of his memory. She had closed in on him in a flash (like The Flash flash fast in his eyes) and not even two seconds later, she retreated. Sheldon was left momentarily stunned and waited for the rush of panic that typically came when someone invaded his personal territory, or imbued upon him germy touches.

Thoughts of the multitude of germs that could be passed from lip-to-lip contact and displeasure of physical contact never came to the forefront; they weren't present at all. As a matter of fact, the same tug in his chest from before was now accompanied by a sensation, warm and tingling, left on his lips.

Warmth that came from her own lips, warm and soft. Soft. _Soft. _

"Fascinating," was all he could voice, since that's all it was. Correction, that was all he was going to let it be. She was a friend who is a girl, she was a friend who is a girl, Amy was _just _a friend who is a girl.

_That's not all she is. _A new voice retorted, and he swallowed it just as quickly as Amy had retreated from the room.

For the longest while, Sheldon ignored the idea that he was potentially going insane, hearing voices in his head, speaking boldly in his ears and vibrating his foreign senses. That nonsense was for crazy people and psychology; for one, he was _not _crazy as his mother had him tested. Confirmed, out of the picture, no chance, no way. Psychology was a subject that was strictly taboo...anywhere. Period. Don't even go there, Sheldon would mentally threaten, he'd strike you down with all the arsenal in his brain, which for the record, was a hell of a lot. He had more weaponry in his cranium than he had weapons unlocked in Halo. All four of them.

The reality of the matter, however, was rearing its ugly head. He allowed himself to fashion a false sense of comfort in the unalterable continuity that was his relationship with Amy, but within a matter of a few months, he was once again thrust into frightening territory that left him quivering in his skin.

_This is wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong! _His hands dropped to his sides.

"What do you mean by that?" Sheldon's voice cracked against his will. The words of his best friend flew in one ear and out the other, he filtered out the unimportant mess and focused on the words that left a sick feeling in his gut.

Loosen up...Good time...Groin...Worse for wear.

In the next instant, he struck Leonard with a surprisingly hard judo chop. There was a voice speaking in Sheldon's mind again, telling him to lay down the law- put that happy pants man in his place. So, for some unknown reason (and he wasn't about to ponder on it now), he instinctively listened to it.

"She is not for you."

"...what?"

"_Not for you!"_

As Sheldon stomped away from his roommate, his head pounded. What was the matter with him? He was acting like a petulant child whose toy was being taken by another kid. By all means, this happened to him all the time growing up, but Amy was not a toy, she was a woman- his friend.

And that voice, that inner voice was so familiar; his mind was spinning, emotions erratic and suffocating that he felt like the wind was knocked out of him.

_She...she is for me. _It told him, and Sheldon shook his head as he entered his bedroom. He absolutely refused to acknowledge the voice that sounded very much like his own.

The day that Amy literally dropped off his radar, Sheldon had been reduced to a literal stone. He had tried literally everything. Everything! She was unreachable; this had never happened before, she was always available for contact. He fought down the shaking of his fingers as he typed the same message on her Facebook page as he did her Twitter, her cellular device, and her email. Was this what most people called a mental breakdown? He felt like he treading into obsessive territory; when had Amy become this necessary in his life? This woman, his _friend, _was throwing his life off kilter, altering systems and cycles and his eyes were burned with the memory of her face and he just wanted to _see _it. Hear her voice.

Maybe he had gone insane?

Sheldon showed up to her apartment with what he thought was well hidden concern (he was not panicking, okay?), only to find a red, teary eyed woman who had a paler than normal complexion. His mind reeled and uneasiness caused him to linger awkwardly in the hallway.

He couldn't do this, he reasoned, he saw her face and that was enough. It was enough. _Go, _the other voice demanded as she left the door open to return to the couch. Again, like a man possessed, Sheldon listened without further prompting. He walked in, conversed, and eventually sat on the couch with her and let her explain her woes. The longer he stayed, the more he couldn't make sense of the stirring in his stomach. While he didn't really understand why something as trivial as being left out of dress shopping (because it's _dress shopping_ for crying out loud, like that's fun) was upsetting Amy, but the fact that she was upset at all in turn upset him.

But why did it upset him?

When she asked him to engage in 'a night of torrid love making' with him, Sheldon resisted the urge to run away from the room, from Amy, from that _tingling _feeling. They countered back and forth until she made her final offer and once again, he was letting her have her way. Since when had this become a normal thing? Even as they awkwardly molded together, his arms around her and pulling her close, and her head nestled on his sternum, Sheldon tried to make sense of it all.

For the nth time since meeting this small, quirky woman, Sheldon simply could not solve the internal equation.

Then suddenly, two weeks later, Amy Farrah Fowler was his girlfriend.

She was his; they had a contract and everything. There would be no Stuart, Amy, pumpkin lattes, intercourse, or any combination of the four in the future. The knowledge of that alone let him rest at ease.

Now they could go back to being a pair of Homo Novus, pursuing knowledge of the universe and all its components, right?

Apparently, Amy, and Sheldon himself, had other plans.

He bought her a tiara in apology for upsetting her because, really, that whole thing with Amy being upset still bothered the daylights out of him, not that he would admit that out loud. He didn't really understand what had upset her, but Leonard insisted he buy her something and Penny _insisted _that is had to be jewelry, since apparently that humidifier wasn't a proper apology gift. (He would have accepted one for an apology, but whatever.) Amy was seemingly placated none the less, her jubilant reaction was endearing, up until she planted an awkward and off position kiss upon him.

Sheldon swore his heart stopped, and yelled at his brain to shut up as thoughts of softness and desires of repeating the action bubbled up to the forefront. He was really getting good at producing a poker face, probably even better than that one weirdo singer that Penny always listened to in the car. But, Amy was pleased, Penny was amused, and Sheldon just simply didn't care anymore as he lightly raised his hands to return his girlfriend's cobra-tight embrace. Warmth spread through him like wild fire, and again he fought down the suffocating thoughts prodding him.

A date after dark in Amy's apartment much later that year was the start of a crazy increase in...inappropriate thoughts in Sheldon. She wanted to experiment with neurobiological mumbo jumbo to see if she could further alter the paradigm of their boy-girl relationship.

As if she wasn't doing enough damage as it were, what with the delicate curves of her shoulders and hips, the tantalizing hue of her green eyes, and that low, low hum that was her sultry voice. See? Catastrophic damage, critical damage, maximum damage! His thoughts could be quiet anytime now, he berated himself with a tap of his foot. He was instantly roped in with Mario Bros. tunes, strawberry Quik, spaghetti with hot dogs cut up in it, and a grinning vixen of a woman who knew very well she had Sheldon caught in her gambit. Amy was chaos, Amy was destruction of his walls, Amy was vixen incarnate.

And Sheldon was drawn to it– to her.

The following year was riddled with emotional riptides; Sheldon couldn't even refute the idea that Amy was indeed increasing his affections for him, and she wasn't even trying most of the time. He was hitting a breaking point, where his brain was beginning to separate into two divisions: Logic telling him to back away before it's too late, and Feelings reminding him that it was okay to fall, because it was _her_.

Date nights at the Cheesecake Factory, fights with his childhood idol–enemy–good friend Wil Wheaton over his girlfriend's honor, parking spot shenanigans and that puzzling amount of band-aids, Amy being sick and Sheldon nursing her back to health because he was concerned for her well being, her lying about her illness which resulted in what he though was appropriate punishment for her deceit, him lying about their sex life to Kripke, dealing with the prospects of living together. He felt like he was slowly backing into a corner, and when an event too heart-altering happened, the metaphorical floor cracked beneath his feet.

Valentine's Day– Amy wanted a romantic evening with a low-lit dinner and acts of intimacy; Sheldon abhorred evenings like this. Penny and Bernadette had obvioulys infused her brilliant mind with sappy nonsense that was so far away from how they operated that Amy seemed like a completely different woman. It really did puzzle him, and to a degree, disappointed him. She was a woman, but she wasn't _any _woman, so why did she insist on acting like the collective half of the world's female population?

When she arrived at his apartment, Sheldon opened the door with a feeling of apprehension. The faster they got this over with, the better. Yet then, she did something that made his heart stop dead in his chest.

She canceled their date. The dinner, the romance, everything– she was willing to bury all that just to enjoy an evening at home with him. He whirled around to look at her, awe-struck and breathless. What was happening? His breath was caught in his throat, his heart severely palpitating, and his face extremely warm. There was never another instance that he felt so in...

His mind froze instantly. No. No no _no_.

He found himself next to her on the couch; simply hearing her speak in that low voice was sending rushes of madness and hotness through his nerves. What was happening here? He handed over his gift for her, mouth forming words automatically as she fell into an adorably emotional state. He knew this would affect her, so much more than any of those material gifts that he had his assistant buy, but as she pulled him into her arms, the floor under him seemed to give way.

Soon after, the feeling of being caught in a corner, and the increasing feelings for this alluring female that had ensnared his heart and mind were seeping between the cracks of his logic and reason. Ultimately, this caused him to lash out at her. Words, accusations, negative feelings, an overwhelming darkness that crushed him and made him nauseous. The looks of hurt made his heart heavy, but the biting remarks wouldn't cease.

This maddening push and pull was sending Sheldon into a tizzy. He knew this would happen, he _knew_! She was gently pushing him, then she wasn't; He was stubbornly resisting her, then he wasn't. It reminded him vaguely of a game of tug and war, but neither of them were winning, only ending up with hands burned.

Sheldon knew she was getting hurt over his backpedaling and abrupt behavior. Heck, Sheldon himself felt hurt on more than one occasion from his own actions. Who says funerals are barely more tedious than spending time with one's girlfriend? Apparently an internally and emotionally distraught Sheldon Cooper did. Feeling stuck in such a twisted labyrinth, he had no idea where to begin navigating it, and the sense of being in the middle of a great unknown shook him to the very core and caused him to act out whichever way charged to the forefront first.

This wasn't working, he would tell himself.

Upset and fed up with the chaos in his brain, and crushed by the very real concept of his behavior creating an unrepairable tear in his relationship with the most important person to him in his entire existence outside of familial ties, he pleaded for the little voice that before always seemed to show up at the most inopportune moments to guide him in solving those nauseatingly difficult equations.

_Stop listening to your brain for once, it doesn't have all the answers, _was all his inner voice said.

He couldn't even will himself to ignore it; the notion that something other than his omniscient brain would be the thing to solve this dilemma hit him hard like a truck.

* * *

End Note: This was supposed to be a one-shot. Seriously, it was. But as of posting this chapter, I currently have 30 pages worth of story and it's about ¾ of the way done. Can you believe that noise? Well, I can, I'm crazy. (I don't need to be tested for such things.) Next chapter will have some steamy moments, and will delve into non-canon territory too. (Season 7 is void in this since I started this when it was just starting, so maybe it's slightly AU?) Next chapter should be posted within a couple days once I alter one or two details. Leave a comment with your thoughts, I love hearing from you guys! Until next chapter~


	2. Near, Far, and Closer Than Before

**The Emotion Amplification – Chapter Two – Near, Far, and Closer Than Before**

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Big Bang Theory or its characters**

**Note: This chapter has a tiny bit of suggestive themes. :) And just as a reminder from last chapter, this story negates season 7, as this project started right before the premiere. ;)**

* * *

The moment Sheldon entered his bedroom, he felt an overpowering sense of dread. Amy was clearly distressed, that much he knew, but he didn't know much more. He wasn't experienced in dealing with such little emotional cues, and Amy was practically radiating them at this moment. Sheldon very nearly jumped when she spoke.

"I'll tell you what they think, they think our relationship is a joke."

The initial thought, or question really, that crossed Sheldon's mind was why their friends' opinion mattered in the first place. What did their relationship have anything to do with what their friends thought? They weren't the ones who went on dates with her, or cuddled with her, or were on his emergency contact form, Amy was. He mentally blinked away the urge to frown at her; she was his girlfriend, she was upset and he needed to do something, regardless of how much confusing nonsense he thought she was spouting.

"Well, I don't think our relationship is a joke," he followed up his claim with what he thought was a witty joke that was worthy of the name. Well, he thought it was entertaining, but she didn't appear to look much better, which in turn caused Sheldon to bite his lip. Wasn't that enough for her, that they, the two actually involved with each other, took their courtship seriously and knew its value?

She sighed, that was never a good sign, "Sheldon, are we ever going to have an intimate relationship?"

.._What? _He blinked, utterly flabbergasted. Was he was seeing a whole different woman in front of him again, just like on Valentine's Day? That's what this was all about? Amy didn't think they were intimate, which was a completely opposite matter to Sheldon. How she could even believe that for a second baffled him and he could suddenly and vividly envision that labyrinth becoming that much more twisted all around him

"Oh my, that's an uncomfortable topic." He meant every word; he had always assumed that Amy understood him and how this whole relationship worked between them. Sure, he was rather subtle (okay, extremely subtle in his affections at times), but this was Amy he was talking about.

With that thought, Sheldon came to a new conclusion– This wasn't something he could afford to be subtle about. If Amy couldn't fully see his affections for her (and thinking back, Sheldon really couldn't blame her with his demeanor as of late), then he'd simply have to tell her, show her, _make her __see_.

His breath shallow, Sheldon was finally beginning to understand what his inner voice was trying to tell him all those times before.

His heart was pounding rapidly the moment the die hit the hard surface of his limited edition Dungeons and Dragons player guide book. Here he was, disrobing her verbally, and the words were slipping from his tongue more smoothly than he felt they should. Her own voice was low almost like a hum, soft and sultry and shy all at once, and that was not helping Sheldon's..._anything _calm down.

He didn't even know what happened; one moment he's confessing what he thought was pretty much his entire soul to her and the next he's touching her arm, keeping her in his bedroom (which he was now realizing several minutes too late that she was on his bed and he absolutely did not care), and he couldn't think properly.

Again and again, they kept playing, pressing each other further along in their private encounter. Their words were becoming more daring, more intimate, more sexual as they led the role-play towards its natural conclusion. Sheldon was touching her thighs, pressing kisses to her neck, hovering over her and grinding into her heat that pooled between her legs. Amy had an ankle hooked around his leg, pulling his ear lobe with her teeth, _whispering_ actions with what Sheldon likened to a hypnotizing lullaby.

How mere _words_ could work a person up this ardently, he couldn't even begin to cognize it, but she was dragging him in with those seductive utterances and lucid green eyes, hidden partially under thick lashes.

Long after they had finished their fantasy act of love making, Sheldon sat alone in his room, staring at the spot Amy once occupied, entirely mystified. Was that how the actual activity happened too? An event that left you breathless- gasping for air, skin tingling like it was on fire, mouth pulsing with an urging he couldn't swallow. Even now, his fingers twitched, imagination running wild with thoughts of stroking feather-like touches along Amy's graceful ankles and up her slim calf–

Sheldon hunched over and buried his face in his hands, palms digging hard into his eyes. He couldn't erase the image of the brunette– bare, _open, _and reaching for him, out of his head no matter how hard he rubbed.

Oddly enough, for months after their virtual bedroom copulation, Amy left Sheldon alone about matters of physical intimacy, which left him honestly riddled with confusion and yet, somewhat relieved. He needed some time, lots of time, to muse, calculate, and make absolute sense of the past events. But as time went on, Leonard had both departed and returned from his sea expedition, and Amy was still keeping him at arms distance. It was now December, well over half a year later.

Sheldon pondered the many possibilities as to what had happened between them. In fact, he was losing his mind over it, over her, and it was becoming a growing plague that ate at him relentlessly. He thought of it while he ate breakfast, and when he'd be working at the university- staring blankly at his white board. Even when he showered (those were the worst times, the memories always seemed the most vivid there), and later when he laid awake in bed, eyes leveled at the ceiling.

What _had_ happened?

The only possibilities he could reasonably come up with were that either Amy had been completely satisfied with pretend intercourse the one time and she was now permanently placated, or she was completely turned off from it and never wanted to repeat the performance.

Neither conclusion left Sheldon feeling any better, on the contrary, it only made him that much more distressed from the possibility, and even more so that he felt that way in the first place. That would insinuate that he admitted to enjoying the experience, but he didn't want to admit to that, did he?

Even Sheldon knew he was simply fooling himself; he couldn't deny the adrenaline rush, that he couldn't take his eyes off her as she spoke. The fact that part way into their act he wasn't even using the die anymore to dictate his moves. Did that not mean that he was speaking from his own inner thoughts? That he actually _wanted _these moments to happen between them, and in turn she wanted the same thing from the way she murmured, gestured, and appeared? He was watching her close enough at the time, so Sheldon assumed that was the obvious case. She was expressing the same looks, the same hard, badly hidden breathing, and dilated eyes. They were two of a kind, so by default, this had to be the same thing for them both, right? So why, why, _why, _was she backing away now that he was trying so hard to open up and reciprocate?

That sickening question made him finally realize how rotten she must have been feeling, all this time, every moment he did the very same thing to her. He never intended her to feel like this, so haplessly sprawled upon the pins and needles that were their venture into physical intimacy. Sheldon wanted her to know that he was trying because he wanted to, that he did have these feelings and desires. He didn't want her to avoid him anymore, and it was scary how much he was finding himself unable to handle her seeming so far away.

Next date night, he decided, he'd confront her.

They were at her apartment for an impromptu date, one Sheldon had suggested himself. He called her, asking if she was at home and busy, then when she confirmed the prior and denied the latter, Sheldon took the bus to her apartment. She seemed pleasantly surprised, but still the tiniest hint of frigidness lingered in her body language. As she walked away to put her book away, Sheldon let out a deep breath, more than a little nervous.

His plan for the evening was to watch a movie that they would equally be entertained by and possibly enjoy a stimulating round of Counterfactuals. They sat next to each other; Amy made sure to leave at least a few inches of space between them. Sheldon raised a brow at the gesture; Never had he felt more bothered at the fact that she wasn'ttrying to hold his hand, or lean against him, or–

Amy suddenly standing from her seat jolted Sheldon from his inner daze, and he watched her silently move into the kitchen and put some water on for more tea. He shifted back to eye the television for a moment, deep in thought, and grabbed for the remote, pausing the movie.

_Do it now._

_Hm_, Sheldon scoffed to himself. As if the voice even needed to tell him.

He padded after her, not being able to help that his eyes were staring intently at how Amy's waist curved as she swayed to one side and rested a hand on the handle of the stove. As he approached, Sheldon heard her release a breathy sigh and he forced down a shiver. Instead, as boldly as he could muster (because he was quickly losing courage), he stopped inches behind his girlfriend and bracketed each hand on either side of her, arms locked in place as he also clutched the oven handle.

She instantly jumped when his chest grazed lightly against her back and sucked in a breath. She didn't dare move, "Sheldon?"

"Why are you avoiding me?" the question spilled out instantly, sounding harsher than Sheldon intended, his voice hoarse. He found himself staring at the crown of Amy's head as she stood silently before him, a suffocating silence floated around them in a smoke-like haze that made his stomach curl in anxiety.

After what seemed like an agonizing eternity, the petite brunette let out a quiet breath (-maybe he was just hyper sensitive to her and could simply hear everything she did because _boy_, was she breathing a _lot_-) and shifted herself around in the tiny space she was granted to face him. Her hands hovered under his forearms momentarily before touching them softly, and she looked up into his hesitant stare with a seriousness that both calmed and unnerved Sheldon all at once. She seemed to be doing that with increasing ease, he mused as she opened her mouth to speak.

"Sheldon," she squeezed his arms. "I am not avoiding you. If that was implied, I do apologize. I am simply giving you some space."

"Space...?" he mimicked incredulously. He noticed the warmth simmering on his arms where her hands pressed, and the small peek of her wrists that poked out from her blouse sleeves. He closed his eyes to block out the oncoming images prickling in his brain.

"Yes, Sheldon, space. I felt that you may have been... pressured after our previous dalliance in your room, and assumed it necessary to give you a sufficient amount of time to...relax around me again." Amy's hands then dropped from his arms and hung limply at her sides as if her previous statement sparked the realization that she was touching him, and glanced off over his shoulder. Sheldon opened his eyes, gaze softening.

She was a very intuitive woman, he knew that, but Sheldon had honestly thought she would be elated and focused on their encounter and would press for something more. He had forgotten a very important detail that pertained to Amy more than anyone else he knew, the very aspect that had drawn him to her from the moment they met: Amy understood Sheldon.

He had been so worked up over his own shifting emotions and the fact that he was truly bothered by her distance that he had momentarily forgotten that. He made assumptions that she'd attempt to take more once he agreed (and initiated) a moment of intimacy before he could ease himself into it.

_How callous of me_, he frowned at himself. Amy wouldn't really do something he didn't want, regardless of how much she wanted something more. She told him as much before, sitting so small on his bed.

When had they walked past each other in this whole situation?

He couldn't deny he was afraid of all these changes, and his acceptance of them, but he wanted to move forward with her. Maybe not as quickly as what was considered the norm, but it was something he _did _desire with Amy and Amy alone.

"Why didn't you communicate your concerns to me? You've always done so in the past," he asked quietly, his words pulling her sights back to him. She looked more and more vulnerable as they stood there, which was tugging on his heart strings. When had she started looking so...delicate?

"You don't like talking about those topics; we both know that. I didn't want to push too soon."

"We need to start talking about these things, Amy, regardless of comfort." Amy's eyes darted up to connect their gazes with this comment, taken aback. Sheldon swallowed and mirrored her actions from earlier by placing his hands around her elbows, clutching them firmly. "Amy, I admit that having...verbal intercourse with you was scary, extremely so. I've never willingly been so close to a person before and I don't take new experiences and changes well, but please realize that I wouldn't have suggested it in the first place if I didn't want to participate."

Amy's eyes stayed on him, unwavering, as she watched him speak, almost like she was in a trance. He noticed her sway forward, leaning against his hands, and he moved just a bit closer in return. He needed to make this clear to her, even if his heart was two beats from exploding as he spoke.

"I understand that I am not the easiest person to maneuver with, and that I make frequent jeers about relationships, the concepts of love, and the physical aspects that are involved. For the longest time, I simply felt those notions unnecessary and mind-reducing rubbish. But with you-" Sheldon unconsciously pulled her closer, squeezing her arms tighter still. "-it's different. I accept things that you do that I never have with anyone else. I _want _things that I've never even envisaged before and for the first time in my life, I feel it's worth making an effort for it."

"Sheldon," Amy murmured, but trailed off, unable to say anything more. He pressed his mouth into a thin line, contemplating his next words. _Make her understand. _He nodded adamantly and fixed her with an intense stare.

"I _want _you, Amy, and I do desire everything that comes with being with you. I'm trying, I really am, I just need a little more time." He refused to break eye contact, even with his heart pulsing in his ears, a loud, thundering drum, and when he felt the air still around them. Amy studied him quietly for a solid minute, then smiled at him, halting all of Sheldon's swarming thoughts.

"All the time you need, you shall have. Don't think you have to rush things for me," she cradled a hand over his jaw, thumb ghosting over his cheek. "I have stopped thinking that we need to emulate normal couples, because we are anything but. I like how we are now."

"Me too."

"Then that's all we need to worry about," Amy let her hand linger a moment longer on his face before letting it trail down his neck. "When you are ready, I'll be ready. No pressure."

"Thank you-" Sheldon was abruptly interrupted by the high pitch whistle of the kettle behind Amy. She let out a humored huff and let her hand drop as she turned around to silence the loud contraption.

Amy then reached up to a nearby cabinet to pull out her box of tea bags; Sheldon's eyes followed her movements, his brain seemed to take this opportunity to once again take in the dips of her waist that he could slightly make out beneath her layers of clothing, and the curve of her hips leading to her rear.

_Oh boy_. Sheldon had a feeling that time was going to become a fickle mistress.

The two of them spent the following months since their talk to slowly grow accustomed to the easier aspects of physicality. Sheldon knew that Amy took great care in making sure that he always felt comfortable, and never overwhelmed at their growing frequency of touches.

During date nights (which by this time had increased in frequency to once a week), they would sit close enough that their shoulders or thighs touched, and the night would more often than not end in a farewell embrace. Sheldon found himself reaching for her hand first rather than the other way around when they watched a movie, fascinated in the subtle bumps of her knuckles beneath her smooth skin.

She sometimes would read comics with him and their hands brushed together when he passed the next issue to her. He also found it positively charming when she'd come over to his apartment with brand new cards for Counterfactuals, neatly laminated and glossy to the touch, and would plop down next to him, flush against his side. Not to mention that little scrunch her nose always did when she calculated her next move when they played 3-dimensional chess (his choice), or checkers (her choice).

He was finding that the little things she did caused the biggest rushes of emotion within him, and when this realization hit him full force (in the middle of the first Star Trek remake that she picked to watch no less), Sheldon promptly bent towards her and kissed her softly on the lips. He was quite certain he surprised the daylights out of her, the way her green eyes widened with awe and her mouth puckered those supple lips. In the midst of taking in the lingering warmth left from the kiss, he didn't care when she reached over and stopped the movie with a flick of the remote.

There was also not a single care given two seconds later when Amy leaned over and kissed him back fully on the mouth, her hand placed on his thigh for balance. The moment only lasted seconds, but Sheldon's ignited mind hadn't shut off until long after Amy went home late in the evening.

Once they had passed that milestone, kissing became incredibly frequent. For the life of him, Sheldon would never have fathomed that the biological chemical increases of oxytocin, endorphins, and dopamine from stroking one's lips with someone else could actually evoke such a feeling of being high in the clouds, but one – two – three pecks later from his gentle girlfriend would usually send the thought to the back of his buzzing brain.

There was also the one time that Sheldon relayed this little moment of pondering to her, and Amy explained to him that along with chemical effects, five out of the twelve cranial nerves were also solely dedicated to the sensations of the mouth and could pick up subtle touches and intricate tastes. He tested this by nipping her upper lip and dragging his tongue along the bottom, and felt a swell of smugness when she quivered in his arms. _Let her mind drift in the sky for a while_, he had thought with a smirk as he continued to pepper her shivering neck with kisses.

Physical affections happened everywhere, too, which was something that Sheldon initially disapproved of. Of course, that was also before he became aware of the magnetic attraction Amy practically radiated when in his proximity. When she'd arrive at his apartment, he would hook an arm around her and pull her in for a quick kiss to the temple, he'd linger against her back as she made tea at their apartments, and when Sheldon was feeling particularly daring, he'd sneak in a kiss when he was eating lunch in her lab at work or in her car when she brought him home.

It simply was an absolute rush, more than just blood flowing to his lips to make them plush, but an internal rush that left him wanting more. He became more adventurous as time went on, daring to place breathy kisses behind her ears, nipping kisses across the lengthy curve of her neck, and tender kisses upon her wrists. Perhaps his favorite spot though, were her shoulders. Only twice did the occasion happen upon him, but he instinctively let his lips wander there and linger, just letting his bottom lip travel the collarbone and over the roundness of the shoulder itself. Amy reacted splendidly, a tantalizing sigh would flow from her, sending that same rush coursing through Sheldon's body.

If only he could reach that third chance.

He found himself requesting their date nights be at her place more and more as well, since neither of them liked the idea of their friends being privy to their intimate physical activities (being almost caught twice by the ultimate blonde gossip waltzing into his apartment was two times too many for Sheldon). They were still in the process of exploring contact, and Sheldon did not want any unnecessary meddling on their friends' part to mess up their slow and comfortable ascension into intimacy. He wanted only the two of them to be in control of their progression, and he trusted Amy's word more than any of theirs', simple as that

Then, just as smoothly as spring mutated into summer, Sheldon was starting to feel an overwhelming sensation of longing and desire, growing exponentially stronger, even when he was near her day after day. He could only come to one, very spine-tingling conclusion.

He was ready.

* * *

**End Note: And there we go, finally going to get to the good stuff next chapter. (Well, I hope all of it is good stuff, but you get my meaning.) Thank you to those of you that reviewed the first chapter, and also to those of you who faved and/or followed. I love feedback so leave a comment letting me know what you thought of this chapter! **


	3. The Ultimate Connection

**The Emotion Amplification **– **Chapter 3 **– **The Ultimate Connection**

**Disclaimer: I, as usual, do not own The Big Bang Theory or the Shamy. * sigh ***

**Note: This chapter does in fact, fully earn that M-rating. Shamy**–**sexuals ahead. Oh, and read the note at the bottom too, fanart info~ ;)**

* * *

It was late June when Sheldon invited Amy over to his place for the first time in weeks for date night, and he could confirm without a shadow of doubt that this would be one of the longest nights in his thirty-four years of life. For him, for her, for them-

When she arrived rather soaked due to a sudden storm that had claimed Pasadena, winds roaring and rain down-poured in thick, heavy droplets, Sheldon had stopped dead in the hallway and stared at her wet attire and how her legs were already bare, shoes and tights removed. Amy was starting to peel, _peel, _her cardigan off when he flipped around and briskly escaped into the bathroom to retrieve a couple towels (and to stop ogling her because she was, for lack of a better word, breathtaking).

He stared at himself in the mirror for a moment and released a shaky breath when he saw the dilated state of his darkening blue eyes. His hands clamped the sink tightly, and let his head hang low between his shoulders as he calmed himself.

Despite the very real fact that Sheldon had invited Amy to his place because Leonard and Penny were celebrating their recent engagement in Vegas, and that he planned on bringing up the possibility of _that _to her, her appearance was like a punch out of left field. She looked like a mythical siren who had just walked out of the ocean, hair clinging to her face and neck, and a silent, seductive lullaby sung through her body language as she flexed out of her sweater.

It was unnerving how easy she could affect his state of mind as of late, leaving him high strung and fingers twitching with the maddening urge to touch every last inch of her skin.

"Sheldon?" Ah, there it was: her deep, alluring voice. He wiped a palm over his face and headed back out towards his living quarters. First and foremost, he needed to make sure she was taken care of, as stipulated in their Relationship Agreement (and his own concern for her well being, of course). He shoved as much of his rampant and heated thoughts deep down inside as he approached her by the door from which she had yet to move.

Amy, who was dressed down to her bottom layer, a cream-colored shirt, and denim skirt, took one of the two towels Sheldon offered her with a shivering hand. She tried to keep her soaked articles of clothing clutched under an arm to avoid as much dripping as possible. Sheldon took the leftover towel and placed it over her head, gently ruffling as much water out of her hair while trying (and failing) to ignore the hints of the dark green lace of her bra peeking through her clinging shirt. Hints of mint and blossoms wafted into his senses; Amy had most likely showered before coming over and the scent was pouring off of her like a mist, intoxicating him.

"I'm sorry," Amy's quiet mumble startled him from his daze and he paused in his actions to peer down at her.

"For what?" he choked out, hoping his voice didn't betray his current state of mind.

She seemed to be finding the floor the most interesting focal point, "I'm sure you had a schedule for our activities for this evening and it has been thrown off track by my unpreparedness for the weather. Um, Penny did give me a key to her apartment, so I can just-"

"That won't be necessary, Amy, nor is your apology." Sheldon left the towel on her head and reached for the bunched up pile of clothing under her arm. "I'll throw these in a wash cycle for you, so please make yourself comfortable in...um, my room..."

There, he said it. He bit his lip, eyes not quite able to meet the curious green gaze that was now boring into him with a hint of curiosity and...shyness? He coughed lightly, shifting in his stance and mentally breathed a sigh of relief when she nodded without question and walked off down the hallway.

For the second time that night, Sheldon swiped his hand over his face and tried desperately to calm his nerves. Try being the key word.

_I can do this. I can do this. I can do this._

A little over ten minutes later, Sheldon was standing outside his bedroom, hand raised and hovering near the door. Amy was just on the other side of this wood structure, mostly likely on his bed, _his bed. _After his habitual (albeit shaky and definitely not as perfectly timed as usual) triple knock, he stepped inside to find that she was indeed sitting at the edge of his bed, towel neatly folded under her bottom. Her hands sat neatly upon her bare knees, but her feet were folding over each other over and over, she was clearly jittery.

Signs pointed to nervousness, as Sheldon knew her ticks all too well, and with an awkward shuffle, he took two steps towards her.

Amy's eyes met his, "So...what's the plan?"

Bluntness despite everything was also something Amy was well known for, Sheldon thought with both endearment and a touch of dread. "Um..." The moment had suddenly presented itself: proposing sex to his girlfriend, and Sheldon was already frozen to his spot. His brain was suddenly drawing a severe blank; he had done extensive research on every possible iota regarding intercourse, sex, _love-making_, but after hours upon hours of reading, sometimes disturbingly vivid articles, he still was at a crossroads as to how to actually breach the topic itself. He closed his eyes and quickly shifted his mind into overdrive, using his perfect memory to skim across the tactics available.

Should he just up and ask? 'Let's have sex? Let's fornicate? Let's fuck?' Oh _lord_, not _that _article; he quickly diverted course. Maybe he could just kiss her and- no, no, no, that wouldn't work. Sheldon wasn't sure he could be bold enough to jump into the fray just like that. Oh for cod's sake, Sheldon had been preparing for this for well over a month now and everything was about to be jeopardized by the fact that he couldn't spit out a few words!

He was vigorously chewing his lip at this point, almost ready to call the whole thing off in frustration when he opened his eyes to find Amy standing directly in front of him, a gentle and warm expression upon her face. Her hand slowly placed itself on his chest, right over the spot where his heart had stopped dead at her close proximity.

Her eyes fluttered once, "You're trying to bring up an uncomfortable topic." A statement, not a question. Sheldon felt very much like a deer caught in the headlights, heart now catapulted from zero to sixty as he willed himself to nod.

She knew. She always did, didn't she? There was not one other person on the planet, in the universe, that got him so clearly, or completely as Amy. She was about to give him an out to this difficult situation, wasn't she? The thought made Sheldon mentally and literally square his shoulders; he would not let her make this easier for him, not this time.

"I..." he stopped, mouth open. Easier said than done, apparently, he thought bitterly to himself. He was a brilliant physicist, for crying out loud! He could sound off equations in the highest complexities and yet he couldn't rise to this challenge? "I...you..." A million different emotions were flying through him as he stumbled over his words. If he could call them words, anyway.

Amy once again wiped his mental plate clean as if swiping a hand across a set table as she trailed the hand on his heart up to his face, cradling his jaw in her cool palm, "Proposal."

He watched her with wide blue eyes, waiting. _What?_

His silence and attention prompted her to quietly continue, "I am going to make a request. If you are willing to fulfill it, then simply tell me, _any _way you wish."

Sheldon sucked in a shallow breath as Amy passed her tongue over her bottom lip, murmuring a quick, "Okay?". He then mimicked the gesture, then nodded as he felt a heavy current pass between them, electrifying his limbs. He swore he saw her mouth pucker the slightest bit as she began to open her mouth.

His tingling hands were already reaching for Amy as her low, sultry voice washed over him like an overwhelming tide, "...Love me."

Fingers instantly threaded through half-damp hair, Sheldon pulled her up to him for a crashing kiss, and poured as much crazed emotion as he was feeling in their molded lips. As if on auto-pilot, he stepped forward, nudging Amy backwards until her knees tapped at the edge of the bed. He held her still before she could topple back onto the mattress.

She let out a brief sigh as Sheldon's fingers clumsily traced along the seam of her shirt, tips snaking under the damp fabric and pulling it up. Every chance stroke along her skin as he lifted her top felt like he was burning her with blazing warm licks of fire upon her chilled flesh, the feeling intensifying when his hands ghosted around the curves of her breasts. With a final tug, Amy's shirt was gone and forgotten on the floor.

He stopped then, taking a few seconds to commit her half-nude state to memory, natural sun-kissed tan highlighted by the two tone green brassiere and the delicate curve of her waist. She was a lot leaner than her clothing hinted at, but she displayed what he thought was a perfect smoothness. A small tinge of reality of what they were about to delve in creeped up on him as he reached a hand out to stroke her waist and down to cradle the swell of her hip.

Ah, those hips, always luring him in.

Amy trembled the slightest bit as his hand fanned across her belly and stopped on the top button of her denim skirt. He swallowed deeply as he unfastened the first button, then the second, and watched in fascination as more and more skin revealed itself when he shrugged it down, and caught the matching deep green panties as the skirt pooled at Amy's feet. She soon stepped out of the fabric, kicking it aside with a flick of her ankle and moved closer to her transfixed boyfriend. He snapped from his stupor when Amy pressed a soft kiss to his lips, and next thing Sheldon knew, he was knelt over her with one leg nestled between her thighs and hands on either side of her head.

The jarring move caused him to unintentionally lock up, not used to such a compromising position, and his brain started to flicker back through his research for what to do. There were so many variables at this point, so, so many, and what was the right choice? What would Amy like? Should he finish undressing her before himself? Or was this when they just lingered together and kissed? All this research had done for him was give him more chaos to piece through; his thoughts were running like a film reel that had finished its course, spinning over and over and over on the same blank end.

He figured that Amy had by now sensed his sudden change in demeanor when she started to press feather light kisses across his cheek, traveling until her lips hovered just above the inward dip of his ear, breath incredibly warm.

She pulled his body down to rest flush against her, "Sheldon, it's okay to shut your mind off tonight." Sheldon shook his head vigorously, breathing hot air onto her collarbone, mind crazy. _The research, what did the research dictate? Which do I follow? The next step is-_

"Sheldon, it's wonderful that you've tried so hard for us, preparing for this," her whispers were starting to make him dizzy. "But you need to remember, Love, we _are not _like everyone else."

Sheldon swiftly lifted his head, meeting her understanding gaze. He hadn't thought of it like that, he realized, as the panic and chaos seemed to melt away. Amy was correct, though this was nothing new, and he claimed the sense of comfort that came with it. It was the very reason they were together, truly two of a kind.

He nodded at her, and rested his forehead against hers, "Our pace."

"Yes. We can experiment at our pace, our way, and nothing less," she confirmed.

He loved that about Amy, the way she could effortlessly put him at ease like no other. More accurately, he simply loved _everything _about her, bar none. He always felt so warm when he admitted that to himself.

After a couple moments of renewed calmness, Amy raised both hands to frame his face, meeting his eyes as if to ask him if he was going to be okay, if this was okay. Sheldon found it proper to answer her silent inquiry with a gentle kiss, and he could feel her mouth curve into a smile as they pressed even more together; her hands gripped the sleeves of his shirt while his palmed her hips once more, relishing in their growing warmth.

As the kissing continued, a gasp escaped Sheldon as Amy flicked her tongue lightly on his bottom lip, though growing fervor urged him to follow suit and explore her as she parted her lips for his own prodding tongue. Between feverish kisses that were increasing in intensity at a rapid pace, Sheldon could feel hands tugging at the hem of his shirts down at his stomach.

He almost wanted to feel embarrassed at his new state of undress when Amy pulled both tees off simultaneously, but the hot and wet peppering of open-mouthed kisses on his collar area was eating away what little semblance of clear thinking he had left.

He was falling down, down, down.

"Amy," he moaned as she nipped the hollow of his throat, her fingers seemed to be everywhere at once: skimming his chest, then clawing lightly on his scalp, and finally massaging the sensitive flesh just behind his ears.

"Sheldon," she breathed back heatedly just before re-claiming his mouth once again with hers. A jolt struck through Sheldon's nerves at the sound of his name rolling off her lips, igniting him and his senses with a violent heat. He became painfully aware of the erection that was now pressing into Amy's thigh, and felt himself shake when she moved against him. He swore that Amy was hell-bent on hitting every nerve receptor in his body with how her hands, mouth, everything was molding to him; he was practically putty under her ministrations.

_Focus._

He had to take back some semblance of control. He knew she wasn't trying to be the lead, she was simply trying to gently work his pleasure points. Oh, he knew, but he couldn't help but want to push her down and take over. He wanted to please her, make her feel what he was feeling. Hell, he just wanted to _touch _her.

As she lightly pulled on his ear lobe with her teeth, an idea popped into Sheldon's mind and he couldn't help the small predatory grin that overcame him. He turned his head suddenly, nose trailing across her jaw and capturing her mouth in a searing kiss, catching Amy by surprise. Quickly using the momentum of his attack, he coaxed her back down flat on the bed and nailed her still with a piercing gaze. He could hear her breath catch as she stared back with wide eyes, and in turn he half lowered his lids and gave her what some research would call the 'undressing with one's eyes' look.

_And now-_

"Amy," he growled, voice charged with arousal and hands raised up to the underline of her bra. "You jus' let me touch ya now, alright?" As the thick, Texan twang rolled off his tongue with ease, Sheldon, without further warning, slid his large hands under her lingerie and molded them around her breasts.

He watched with satisfaction (and fascination) as Amy promptly arched into his touch, eyes fluttering and mouth open to let out a sharp gasp. The way her thorax flexed as she squirmed helpless below him, ribs peeking up as she sucked in a heavy breath, was absolutely alluring. He continued to watch, transfixed by her reactions, as he caressed her, and was especially enthralled when she shivered and moaned as he passed the pad of his thumb over a swollen nipple.

She was breathing hard, he wasn't breathing at all, and Sheldon simply wanted more of her as if he were consumed by an insatiable thirst.

She whined quietly when he removed his hands, but he quickly hushed her with a kiss while his fingers nimbly worked at the clasp of her bra. A certain girlfriend could only tease about secrets shared with Victoria so many times before one committed the knowledge to memory, though admittedly he had that little tidbit of information saved on the first utterance.

He bent the metal clip outward, shifted the pieces until the lacy article came loose and pulled them apart. Sliding the straps down Amy's shoulders with his thumbs, Sheldon pressed his lips over and over to her collar, down her sternum between her breasts and yanked the bra from under her when she arched up against his mouth. Contraption gone, his hands immediately returned to stroking her chest, all the while placing kisses on the sensitive undersides of her breasts.

She squirmed beneath him, hands gripping the fabric of his comforter and popped her leg free from between his legs, sliding it against his hip. Even still in the confines of his slacks, Sheldon's arousal pulsed at the warmth emanating from her core and he couldn't help but grind into her. That feeling of electricity rocketed through him when he felt her move against him in return.

Oh, how Sheldon wished he had a multitude of arms to explore her body; he didn't seem to know where to place his hands. There were too many curves, soft spots, searing heat and all of her was so _bare, _that he could hardly stand it. He imagined painting beautiful physics equations on her body, fingers dancing lightly around her breasts, running over the bumps of her ribs, sliding smooth along her belly, up across her sternum to circle around her shoulders and down her curved back.

He ended at her hips, those glorious hips, and used his grip on her to pull her more into him. The strain in his pants was almost painful at this point, but lord did he want to just keep touching her, tasting every inch of her body.

Sheldon truly felt like a man possessed by desire, as if the years of denial and pent up emotions were spilling over uncontrollably and flooding the very plains of his existence: an unfiltered, raw passion, much like a torrid flame.

As he continued to spiral down into the whirls of arousal, Sheldon brushed his mouth over the peak of a rosy-tipped nipple and with the swirl of his tongue, pulled it into his mouth with a hot breath.

"Ahh!" a drawn out cry fell from Amy's lips, her hands locked together around the back of his neck as she tugged him closer. Her breathing was reduced to helpless gasps for air, rising in pitch every time he playfully pulled at the bud with his teeth.

Her voice was unbelievably beautiful to his ears, and it only proved to further his drive to consume her. By this time, Amy's arms were wrapped around his neck, face buried near his ear so Sheldon could hear every breath, gasp, and moan she made.

"Please, " Amy pleaded as he moved his attention from one breast to the other. "Please, I...I can't."

Her cries caused Sheldon's vice grip on her hips to tighten; he let one last breath wash over her nipple as he released it from his ministrations and sat up on his knees to gaze at her rose-flushed body. Before she could open her mouth to call out her siren's song again, he pressed a finger to her lips.

"Shhh." he crooned as he removed himself from the bed, much to Amy's dismay. He pulled a small packet from his pocket and tossed it to the bed near Amy's foot. Sheldon almost felt surprised by how easily his hands unfastened his button and slid his pants and briefs down his legs, leaving him completely naked and in plain sight of his desire-eyed girlfriend.

Sheldon mused that at this point, his confidence combined with a powerful adrenaline probably was stomping what lingered of his fears into the ground with a mighty roar. He almost scared himself with how driven he had become.

He was not going to stop; this was going to happen, _now_.

Much like he imagined long, long ago, Sheldon ran a hand along her ankle, thumbing the protruding bone and stroking up her calf. He raised a knee to the bed and propped it between her spread legs as his hands fell upon the edge of her green panties, thumbs hooking under the seams. He let out a shallow breath as he slowly slid the thin material down her thighs, revealing a mound of dark curls and deep rose-colored skin.

Once the panties were peeled away from Amy and discarded to the floor with the rest of their scattered clothing, Sheldon tenderly touched one of her knees that had risen up to shield her completely nude form and dragged his fingers down to the ankle, grasping it. She watched him in a daze as he lifted her foot towards him as he climbed into bed with her and placed a feather-like kiss upon the inner curve of her ankle. He felt her shiver as the other hand traced up her inner thigh and brushed along the crease of her damp folds, eliciting a breathy mewl.

"Sheldon," she stretched a hand down and clawed at his thigh. "I'm not going to- ahh."

His finger slipped into the plush flesh below and stroked his knuckle up and over her center-point of nerves, then removed his hand completely to work at the little square packet he had retrieved. He expertly sheathed himself with the condom (because while he had plenty more in his wallet and nightstand, he wasn't about to mess that up) and moved between Amy's thighs, erection pressed intimately against her.

He braced a hand at the side of her face, the other rested below, and looked her in the eye with blackened eyes, glazed with desire. His gaze silently questioned her, _Are you ready? _She sucked in a long breath, and nodded, pressing a long kiss to the corner of his mouth.

_Yes, _was the answer.

With a hand that guided himself between the folds of her wet inner core, and with a guttural moan at the tip of his tongue, he slowly thrust into what he could describe as a delectably torturous, tight heat. He could vaguely hear Amy cry out as she clung to him in whatever way she could, but his mind was hearing it like an echo in a long tunnel. Everything he felt up until this moment paled in comparison to the sharp jolts of pleasure that coursed through him every inch he moved, and Sheldon could only attempt to catch the breath that was endlessly being stolen from him as he came to be fully sheathed within her.

That Dungeons and Dragons session all those months ago was nothing compared to this, not even close. The emotional and physical climb they journeyed through together to get to this point, this joining of mind, body, and soul was mind-numbingly intoxicating.

By the pleasure-fueled look in Amy's eyes, Sheldon knew she felt the same.

He had to let his head drop to her clavicle, breaths still coming out it heavy rasps as he attempted to both calm himself and let Amy adjust to him. Her arms loosened from her vice-like grip around his neck and let them drop to the bed as she, too, gathered her bearings. Sheldon didn't miss the small wince when Amy tested the waters by nudging the slightest bit against him. He, determined to ignore the hot flash that came with that movement, pressed a kiss to her nose, then her forehead, followed by her ready and puckered lips.

His hands rose to thread themselves with hers and murmured against her lips, "Are you okay?"

"Mm," she sighed into him and shifted again. "It doesn't – _ah! _– hurt anymore."

Tightening his grip on her hands, he pulled back just a touch and thrust forward to make sure, and gasped against Amy's mouth. That pulsing feeling was not going away, he realized as he repeated his movement, this time retreating further.

As Sheldon worked to create a steady rhythm, he let his head rest atop of Amy's, their hot breaths mingling together as they moaned, gasped, and urged each other on. She, since long before, had begun moving along with him, meeting each thrust with a pulse of her own. His gut felt a tingling pressure, coiling tighter and tighter as they moved together in a slightly clumsy, but intense dance that kept sending wave upon wave of euphoria shooting through his very veins.

Their increasing momentum was literally driving Sheldon into oblivion, sparks flashed across his vision and he swore he could see stars when he closed his eyes. Amy's cries of pleasure and his name rolling off her tongue like a frenzied mantra only further made him fall.

Would he completely lose his mind by the end of this?

With the way she squeezed him as he rocked with her like a well-oiled piston, he figured it had already happened and he was simply submerged in blissful insanity. He thrust harder as that painfully pleasurable coil twisted even tighter, he could hear their loud panting and cries and he couldn't tell who was louder, Amy or himself.

Suddenly, Amy let out a throaty, uncontrollable cry and the resulting aftershock left Sheldon feeling like the wind was being knocked from his lungs.

Tight, she was so tight, enveloping his shaft as she rode the waves of orgasm, breasts rising to graze against his own chest and head tilted back in a silent scream.

The combination of her constricting depths, his feverish, unrelenting thrusts, and her cries had him lurching over her as he quickly entered the final race to his own blazing crescendo. His hands snapped down to grab at her hips, and with one – two – three final hard drives into her warmth, he felt a molten white heat pour out from his very being in soul-shattering bursts. It felt like his mind had exploded into a waterfall of color and he swore he could see the image of a far off nebula in the distance.

His breath was escaping him in harsh pants, body convulsing as he rode out the last of his own release, and leaned closer to his girlfriend's welcoming body. She embraced him gently as he relaxed into her and rested his cheek over her left breast, listening to her pattering heartbeat that was still calming from the rush of their love-making.

"Are you alright?" she quietly murmured over his head as she ran a hand around the back of his skull. He slowly nodded against her, fingers brushing against her forearm. _Wow, _was the only coherent though that came to mind. They laid in a peaceful silence as they both let their bodies fully float down from euphoria.

After a couple minutes, Amy was the first to break the silence as she shifted beneath him,"Why don't you go take a hot shower; I'll go throw your blanket in the wash and take care of my clothes?"

Sheldon couldn't help but smile at her attentiveness to his need for cleanliness, and raised his head to capture her glittering green eyes with his own. "Of course, that would be much appreciated. Thank you, Amy."

He carefully pulled away from her, making sure to keep hold on the latex that sheathed him, and retreated for the door. Before he disappeared out of the threshold, he stopped and turned back, "Amy?"

"Yes?" her muffled response came as she popped her head out of her shirt collar.

"...I, um..." he swallowed. _Can I...?_

Now dressed in her shirt and skirt, she glanced at him curiously as she went to neatly fold his comforter into a neat, plush square and bundled it in her arms, "Hm?"

_Yes._

"I love you, Amy Farrah Fowler."

She smiled warmly as she approached him, and placed a quick kiss upon him, "I love you too, Sheldon Lee Cooper." Amy then gave him a toothy grin and sneaked around him and disappeared down the corridor. When he raised his hand to his mouth, Sheldon found a lop-sided smile under his touch.

Later, as Sheldon stood under the streams of hot water, he stared at his own two hands. It was unmistakable; he could still feel the tingling in his fingertips, and could still imagine how perfectly his hands sculpted around her hips and how natural (and scary and overwhelming and electric) it felt to be consumed by her in every way. He even swore that he could still smell the floral, yet natural aroma that permeated from her body. With a deep sigh, his head lulled back and tapped against the back wall.

Oh, he loved her alright- totally, utterly, and completely.

* * *

**End Note: Well, I sure hope that was satisfying for you readers. I will admit that this is the first smut I've ever written (not joking at all), but I hope I did well enough. ;) Please leave a comment with your thoughts, I love reading your feedback! And thank you for all the reviews, favs, and follows. 3 Next chapter should be out in a few days once editing it complete. Have a good one! **

**One last note, there is a fanart that goes with this chapter, just a little sketch. Link in my profile. **


	4. New Experiences, Old Memories

**The Emotion Amplification – Chapter 4 – New Experiences, Old Memories**

**Disclaimer: I am not in ownership of the wonderful BBT. **

**Thank you everyone for your reviews and follows, I love all of you! Enjoy this next chapter!**

* * *

November was a month that Sheldon both loved and hated, and recently the secondary feeling was starting override the prior. On one hand, it was in November of 1895 that the very first Nobel Prize for Physics was awarded to the brilliant Wilhelm Conrad Roentgen for his discovery and in depth study of the X-ray. Any discovery in the name of physics was worth celebrating, even over one hundred years past the fact. (He would expect just as much when he won his own Nobel Prize, after all.)

Yet, at the same time, with November came the rainy season in Pasadena, in which Sheldon had to adjust his whole daily schedule to accommodate for airing out his umbrella after each spell and made for an extra load of laundry for his rainy weather clothing, which displeased him. Then, there was the overabundance of family members that sent him Christmas cards and inquired about his next visit to Texas (not anymore frequent than once a year if he had a say in it). Quite possibly the most annoying of all, was the obnoxious holiday décor that littered every single department store in the city. Really, November was just one of those months-

And now, it was also going to be the month that Leonard and Penny would be moving into an apartment of their own across town. Just like that.

Sheldon sat in his spot on the couch, hands splayed on his thighs as he blankly stared into the kitchen. Thirty minutes earlier, Leonard had left their...his...the apartment; he had wanted to deliver the news as soon as possible and begin the process of any necessary paperwork that was required for the soon to be terminated Roommate Agreement, and also for their lease that would be expiring at the end of the year. Sheldon had been so distracted – dazed by the information, that he had simply sat there in his spot silently following his (_ex_-)roommate's departure. The packet of papers that was the disassembled agreement, along with a check for Leonard's share of December's bills, lay scattered about the coffee table with various proofs of Leonard's initials.

_Leaving...Leonard is leaving_. _Leonard._ No matter how much he tried to toggle and process the information, the words refused to click as a structured sentence. He knew that they weren't going to live together forever, that much was obvious even before Penny popped the ultimate question to Leonard months ago, but for some reason it still crept up on him abruptly and left him feeling disturbed. It was all so sudden, and even now, Sheldon did not bode well with precipitous alterations in his paradigm. In three weeks, he'd be the sole resident of apartment 4A.

He'd be alone.

A subtle knock on the apartment door sounded in the silence. Sheldon didn't bother answering; he knew who it was anyway and sure enough, Amy's head peeked in a moment later.

"Hey," she greeted softly, placing her shoulder bag near his work desk. "Sorry I took so long; I was in the middle of finishing up my preparations for next weeks conference when I received your text message."

That's right, she'd be gone too. It was only going to be for a week, sure, but that was also something that hadn't happened before either, besides the weekend trip she took long ago while Leonard was gone, but that was only two days. Being separated from Leonard, being separated from Amy, he didn't like how much this whole agenda was affecting him. His head was ringing sharply like a high pitched bell, and he nearly felt nauseous.

It was then he realized that he never responded to her greeting, but noticed that she was not offended, as Amy had already moseyed into the kitchen to put some water on the stove. By the time Sheldon really snapped back to focus, she was standing in front of him, holding a steaming beverage in his favorite blue mug, which she offered to him silently.

He casually took it from her, peering into the steaming cylinder, "Cocoa?" Sheldon couldn't help but smile to himself, grateful. He had simply sent her a message stating that he heard some news and required her presence, though he wasn't surprised Amy could tell something was up. As Penny would have put it, Amy was psychic when it came to 'Sheldon' matters, which was ridiculous. Sheldon mentally scoffed. Psychology was for hippies; Amy was simply intuitive and bright.

"Months with an 'R' require cocoa in trying times, is that not right?" she mused as he stared at the cup in his hands.

She returned to the kitchen to make herself a helping of cocoa, then quickly went about cleaning up. Soon after, Amy had joined him on the couch and leaned against her silent companion, shoulder nudging him gently. He took a sip of his beverage, and let the hot liquid cool the slightest bit in his mouth before letting it wash his throat with warmth. A perfectly constructed cup of cocoa, as per usual. There were only three people besides himself who made the perfect cocoa: Meemaw, Amy, and-

"...Amy." he uttered quietly.

Not moving, Amy solemnly stared straight ahead, "Hm?"

"Leonard's leaving. Three weeks."  
"Yeah."  
"He won't be here anymore."  
"Yeah."  
"We've lived together for ten years."  
"Yeah."  
"He demonstrated all the proper procedures for terminating our Roommate Agreement; I didn't even have to correct him, not once."  
"Mm..."  
"He even said...he said I could keep my spot, keep the couch."  
"...yeah."

He allowed himself to rest his weight against Amy and let out a small breath, "What do you think?"

"I think there isn't anything I could say that would make this easier for you without sounding contrived or banal, " she admitted seriously, yet softly. Sheldon nodded slowly in agreement and glanced over to Amy, relishing in the heat radiating from her comfortable body as he nestled just a tad closer.

He appreciated Amy for her straightforwardness; she did not sugar coat words just to put him at ease like many of their other friends did, and just her presence next to him was a comfort in itself. Even just that was enough for him.

_This...her...ah-_

"Amy?"  
"Mm?"

"Shall... we live together?" the question popped out quieter than intended, almost a squeak. Grimacing, he could tell Amy was observing him from the corner of her eye, and Sheldon couldn't help but squirm a bit. She was still staring straight ahead when her mouth opened.

"Do you really want me to live with you?" a serious-toned inquiry was the reply.

Sheldon shifted to face more towards her, "Yes. Regardless of the potential material benefits that would come with cohabiting together, I find your presence comforting, pleasant, and most welcome."

"...really?" Her hopeful tone made his heart swell and he nodded firmly.

"Certainly. I arrived at the same conjecture when you were employed those few months at the university as well," he added, smoothing a hand nervously over her thigh. "Howard's unorthodox advice not withstanding."

It was then that she turned to face him; a playful scrunching of her brows and mouth graced her features, "Really now?"

Sheldon huffed at her and pouted, "Hey now, we talked about-"

"I'm teasing, Sheldon." she patted the hand resting on her leg. "But in all seriousness, just as it's different working with a lover in the work place, living with someone is very different than working with them."

"Really? Leonard is just as tedious to deal with at work than he is at home; You are not, so you already have that credential on your side, and we already spend a _lot_ of time together, Amy." Sheldon raised his index finger up, gesturing between himself and Amy, then as if realizing some unknown connotation to his words, a deep blush spread upon his cheek bones.

Amy chuckled softly, a slight pink hue touching her ears, "I'm just saying that living with your friend and living with your girlfriend are very different. I just want to make sure you understand the implications of that."

"Amy, I would not have suggested it if I weren't ready. I _want _you to live with me." his tone rose the slightest touch and watched her breath catch as he bore his blue gaze into hers. He knew what she was referring to. "I wasn't ready then. We've made monumental strides in all aspects of our relationship, and I've come to the conclusion that I am now."

She looked away with a small sigh, sipped from her mug and appeared to be thinking heavily by the way her mouth curved into a tiny frown. Sheldon peered down at his wristwatch and counted the seconds as the little hand ticked away, the silence between them amplifying his nervousness.

He thought she'd be enraptured by the idea, and he, himself, felt the notion of living with her the proper next step for them. They already saw each other more often than not, and they had become incredibly intimate in the past months - mentally, emotionally, physically - so it was only logical, wasn't it?

He would be the first to admit (to himself only) that he still wasn't the best at catching every single cue from her, so perhaps he had said something wrong? He chewed his lip while his thoughts clustered together in a big heap of confusion.

Finally, the tiniest murmur came from Sheldon's right; so quiet he almost missed it amidst his musings, "I won't be able to replace Leonard, Sheldon."

A tender glance was directed at her. _Oh Amy. _

"I would never expect that of you, nor ask that of you," Sheldon immediately replied, squeezing her again. He paused a moment, then added, "Leonard is an irreplaceable component in my social construct. "

"I know. You are his best friend, after all."  
"He is _my_ best friend."

She turned back to him again, smiling, "Right."

They sat together for a moment, holding their drinks and gazing at each other. He caught her eyes flicker down to his mouth a moment before returning to his face. This was a subtle cue that Sheldon never, ever missed. So, almost in a shy manner, Sheldon leaned forward, pressed a chaste kiss on Amy's lips and lingered against her for several moments. A silent, tender communication of a woman who was uneasy and a man who understood her worries.

He watched as her green eyes disappeared from view when her thick lashes hid them in a flutter as they shut. His soon followed, and his other senses heightened as darkness filled his sight. That smell of her mint dandruff shampoo, the lingering scent trails of cocoa from the mugs in their laps, the faint sound of her breathing, and the ever so slight hum from Amy's throat as he pressed into her.

This felt right. Amy being here with him, being _there_ for him, always felt right- so much so. What once was a frightening and skin-crawling feeling- the desire of always wanting to be near a person, was now a notion so natural that Sheldon grew to want to be enveloped in it more and more.

When he pulled away, Sheldon released a hushed breath, "You also irrevocably fall into that construct."

"Huh?" she blinked once.

"There is no essence of matter in existence that could replace the significance of your presence."

The hints of light pink that dusted her skin from before had now evolved into a brilliant deep rose that flourished from the tips of her ears down to the skin that disappeared below her blouse. Sheldon imagined the steam rising from her ears as she looked down into her lap for a moment, enjoying her shy display.

"I take it that you are in agreement to our cohabiting?" he raised a brow in amusement.

"Well, I have a few months until my lease is up...but you know I wouldn't say no to that," she beamed as she leaned over and pressed a chocolate scented kiss to his cheek. He chuckled, quickly getting magnetically drawn to her happy energy. The scent that lingered reminded him of the drink in his own grasp and pulled the mug to his lips to take a sip.

Yes, he was certain of it, Sheldon nodded to himself as he stroked a thumb over Amy's leg. This was only natural- Him, her, and _their _home.

* * *

Sheldon was thinking deeply. Okay, Sheldon was always thinking about something, whether it was that particular equation that he'd spent hours on and couldn't quite get the formulas to fit together like a perfectly constructed puzzle, or why the heck some people felt that biting their nails was a healthy habit to partake in. Seriously, the potential germs hidden within the miniscule depths of ones fingernails sure turned that notion off to him. If one needed to occupy themselves with a stress reliever, they could always cycle through a set of factorials, simple mathematics or not.

But no, this deep thinking process had very little to do with equations or mind-nauseating habits of the lesser minds; this was about Amy.

As if this was something new.

In early March of two thousand-fifteen, Amy's lease had been officially terminated and she moved into the vacant room of apartment 4A. The months Sheldon had to spend alone went by rather fast, save for that one week period he spent without any personal contact with his girlfriend just after Leonard moved. He hadn't realized how much he had gotten used to Amy just being there instead of behind a computer screen or in a text message.

He promptly let her know of such thoughts the minute she walked in his door after her return, _thoroughly_.

Other than that, Amy was very cognizant of his specific boundaries and behaviors, and knew his daily schedule and habits just as well as Leonard had. She didn't insist on them sharing the same bed when they slept, she always cleaned up after herself when she did her feminine hygiene activities (which kept his cleanliness-obsessed mind at ease), and all in all, their routines didn't change all that much.

Yet, Amy started displaying the oddest of fixations as of recent, he noticed. It was almost like she was wistful, longing for something out in the distance. She'd sit at the day window, simply looking out into the city on sunny days, silent. One day, Sheldon had come home to Amy sitting on the couch, filtering through a box that had remained untouched in the living room closet ever since she moved in. Its contents were many varieties of hand-written note cards, pages, and mini-booklets; Amy would look at them with the same melancholy and ever so slowly, Sheldon started to cloud his mind in an ever-present fog.

There was obviously something wrong with Amy, but since he couldn't bring himself to ask her (for a reason he couldn't quite explain), he simply let the thought simmer in the back of his brain.

On a cloudy day in late April, Sheldon was pacing back and forth in front of his white board, piecing together the multiple trains of thought that would inevitably join the whole jumbling of algorithms into a hefty and brilliant equation that would knock everyone's socks off. He continued to mumble to himself until the subtle sounds of the door opening and a certain woman shuffling inside sent his mind elsewhere.

He looked over his shoulder to find Amy nudging her flats off, her body shimmied to keep her balance as she held a medium sized paper bag full of unknown goods tucked in her arm. She tossed him a small smile and once her shoes were neatly placed together, she briskly traveled to the kitchen and began to make a clutter.

His interest piqued, Sheldon took a seat on the couch and watched her tinker about, pulling out a sauce pan here, grabbing a wire whisk and some measuring utensils there. She then unpacked the brown paper bag, revealing a small handful of various groceries. He tilted his head as she moved them from view, officially curious of her activities.

As if sensing his eyes on her, Amy turned around and sent him a playful smile, nose scrunched up and green eyes twinkling with mirth. Sheldon couldn't help a small smile in return; she looked in a much better mood than recent days, so this alone made him feel better. Seemingly placated by his positive reaction, she turned back around to give attention to whatever it was she was doing.

_What _is_ she doing?_

A few minutes passed before Amy reached for a blue mug from the cupboard and carefully poured the contents of the sauce pan into it. She, with mug in hand, strolled around the island counter and approached her mildly confused boyfriend, offering it to him. The scent wafted into his nasal cavity- smooth and rich.

He took the cup and peered at the contents of the cup. _Hot cocoa?_

"Try it," she gestured towards him with a hand, as if reading his mind. He watched her expectant gaze for a moment, before looking back at the drink in his hands. While he wasn't a fan of switching up a good thing with something unknown, this was Amy and he highly doubted she had created a drug infested concoction, so he lifted it to his lips and took a cautionary sip.

His eyes popped open wide in surprise, "Oh! This is remarkable!"

An adorable pink tinged her cheeks at his exclamation, "I'm glad you like it."

Sheldon took another generous swig, letting his taste buds fully savor the velvety flavor as it rolled down his tongue, "Where did you find a recipe like this? I've never quite tasted cocoa made in this manner."

"...My father."

He stopped dead in his tracks and looked at her. Not once did Sheldon ever recall Amy mentioning her father. It was a rarer occurrence than the mentions of his own father, or Howard's father, almost as if he never existed until now. He didn't know if this was improper territory to encroach upon and the matter made him a bit uncomfortable, so he simply watched her return to him with her own cup and sit by his side.

"My father was a pastry chef, but was someone who loved to cook anything and enhance recipes to become his own utter masterpieces. This was one of his experiments- one he created just for me." her voice was filled with fondness as she spoke, which Sheldon could relate to so well; He often spoke the same of his Meemaw and Pop-Pop. The thought made him pause a moment, mind churning.

She waved a hand and let out a lackluster laugh, "But, I'm sure you don't want to hear about that silly stuff."

_No._

"No," he corrected immediately. "Tell me about him." This was deep territory for them; they never talked about family much, as they both carried awkward and unsettling feelings for each of their families. Their mothers were probably the only people (and Meemaw, of course) that ever held a positive place in their words. Now that Sheldon really thought on it, he honestly was curious about the man who was half responsible for the birth of his brilliant girlfriend.

Amy eyed him with a look he couldn't quite place, but it made his heart palpitate. It was almost as if she were in a state of awe at his claim, but blissfully happy all the same. He could practically feel love and nostalgia creating a subtle glow around her as she lifted her knees up against her chest, crouching in her spot like a child about to hear a bedtime story.

"I only had my dad for seven years, and can really only remember sparse things about him without the stories my mom would occasionally tell me," she raised her gaze to the ceiling. "But those years were probably the happiest of life... until I met you."

Amy told him many stories about the father she had for such a short time of her life. Endless praises of how gentle and kind he was, but quirky and full of life, and a plethora of positivity and love for his wife and child. Sheldon found it curious to learn that her father was a chef, more specifically a pastry chef but dabbled in the arts in general, and as she phrased it, 'an experimental scientist of his own right'. How one could be a scientist with food, he didn't really understand, but did not want to breach the subject with how jubilant his girlfriend looked.

She told him with active enthusiasm (he had to make her put her cup down for fear of burning herself) of how her father was a true romantic at heart. With the dramatics of reciting poetry, she revealed the story of how he proposed to her mother by preparing her a dazzling three course meal that ended with an apple tart and a glass of bubbly white champagne. The glass also contained a quaint, silver band with a single, shining diamond sitting nestled in the bottom.

Amy laughed and recalled the many, many times her mother lamented about how much her father would tease her about the fact that the whole event was more funny than anything, because of how she sobbed so hysterically and loudly. Also that her mother promptly knocked the champagne glass over in her excitement.

"It still makes my mom laugh...and cry a little to this day," Amy murmured quietly, pausing to reach for her drink again to take a gulp.

After Amy's birth, her father quit his job, and the family moved to a quaint little home that had a store front of which he turned into a small bakery. Everything was so he could work from home and be sure to have the time to spend with his two favorite girls. Being a chef in a high-end restaurant meant working long, long hours sometimes, she explained to Sheldon, and her father valued his family too much to ever want to miss anything important. He was a genius in culinary arts, so with the help of her mother (who was only working sparse hours at a local library) to aid in large orders and a hired assistant to take care of the outside deliveries, Amy's childhood life was comfortable and full of love.

"I fell from a tree once, and broke my ankle. My father was furious! '_What are you doing climbing up them tall woods?' _But then he carried me to the car and took me to the clinic down the road," she huffed a little, eyes soft. "Just up and left everything to take care of me. It was so like him." Amy was then quiet for several moments, and in the mean time, he reflected.

Sheldon, while he had a much more difficult childhood himself, couldn't help but think back to his own father. From Amy's comment about her injury, one particular memory of his own suddenly came to mind. There had been a time, Sheldon was rather young, when he ran a very high fever, and his mother wasn't home. George Sr., while rather gruff, brought him to the emergency room and when the nurses told them that they had to wait, his father was outraged. '_Mah boy is sick here! Ya best be gettin' him in faster than you can sniff out a raccoon!'_ He remembered waking up at home with a cool rag on his head and his father nearby reading the newspaper. Junior and Missy were nowhere in sight and to his utter surprise, the father whom he'd never seen without a cigarette, was smoke-free. When his father noticed that he had awoken, he grinned a toothy grin and gently ruffled his head. '_How ya holdin' up, sport? Mama'll be home soon, ya hear?' _

For the longest time, Sheldon forgot about such things. More often than not, he associated his father with the whole package that was a crumbling marriage and loud, frightening fights that left him cowering under his covers.

The more he thought on it, the more seemingly positive memories popped up, which honestly surprised him.

"One day, my dad collapsed in the kitchen and was later rushed to the hospital. It was so sudden, that I, as a six year old child at the time, didn't understand what was happening," the whip-lashing statement caused Sheldon to flip his head over to look at his girlfriend who had just broken both the silence, and his train of memory. She was staring straight down into her lap, fingers laced together. His hand on her thigh naturally tightened its grip; he didn't know if he wanted to hear more, but waited for her to continue never the less. His heart slowly sank in his chest.

"It was a tumor," Amy said seriously, though her cracked voice betrayed the underlying emotions within. "A brain tumor: Glioblastoma multiforme. His case was asymptomatic and very, very sudden."

Sheldon's mouth formed a thin line and he closed his eyes tightly; the look crossing Amy's face only hurt to look at. She suddenly looked very...empty.

"He underwent surgery, and had both radiation and chemo sessions to follow up. Glioblastomas are extremely malignant, and even surgery alone does not guarantee survival." Sheldon knew what was coming before the words even left her mouth. "He lived about seven months more, two weeks after my seventh birthday, then passed away."

Sheldon heard the tiniest sniff next to him; it only made the tightness in his chest that much worse. The feeling was hitting very close to home. Winter of 1985, Pop-pop, a quiet dinner, a silent Christmas wish, and the pain of disappointment. He didn't want to disturb her by making her another hot beverage, so he did what he thought would be the next best thing. The hand on her thigh lifted and moved behind Amy's head, and pulled her towards him as he shifted sideways. She jolted the tiniest bit as her head hit his chest, but he could feel her immediately sink down against him.

He peered down at her face, which was slightly tilted up towards him, and offered her the smallest of smiles. _I'm here_, he was trying to tell her as he swiped a thumb across the dip under her eye to catch the one tear that dripped from it. She closed her eyes and inhaled slowly.

"The recipe," she started again, and Sheldon couldn't help looking confused. "My father created this cocoa recipe for my seventh birthday. Whole milk, fresh shaved chocolate, vanilla, and a touch of cinnamon."

"Vanilla and cinnamon in hot cocoa?" Sheldon couldn't help but blurt out, and Amy let out the tiniest chuckle.

"I thought the same thing, but it turns out that the flavors mesh together extremely well. Don't second guess a genius chef, he'd tell me."

"Agreed," he sat a moment, deep in thought, and then. "So the reason you went into the field of neurobiology was because of your father."

"I... always had a love for science, nature, the mind...but yes. It was probably at that point that I dived head deep into my studies and ultimately, my career choice." Amy released a small breath. "My father was everything to mom and me, and I wanted to know why he had to be taken from us. It was my sole focus, and I guess I ended up a little weird from it."

"I love your weirdness." he watched her smile, and lifted a hand to run over her glossy hair. "It's a noble cause, and I was able to become acquainted with you as a result. I see no error in your ways."

Through watery, yet loving eyes, Amy smiled up at him and stretched to press a kiss to his chin, "Thank you, Sheldon, for listening. I haven't talked about him for a long time."

"You are most welcome," he tipped her head back up and met her halfway in another tender kiss. It was an odd sensation, the feeling of remembering things long forgotten or buried. Focusing on the bad must have in turn blocked out even the tiniest of good in his own father.

_'You're father always did say_–_ Ya gotta take yer time with Sheldon, Mary.'_

Perhaps, in his own rough way, his father was on his side after all.

"What about you? Do you ever think about your father?" came a quiet inquiry. Sheldon looked down at his lady-love, her curious green eyes, cleared of tears, were staring at him.

His mouth curved sideways a bit, "Yeah, actually, I did...just now when you were talking about yours." He cleared his throat, "Would you like to hear about him?"

Amy moved just enough to set her cup down on the coffee table, then Sheldon felt her soft body bury into him, her fingers grabbing the tips of his and setting them on their laps.

So, for the first time in years, Sheldon told someone in detail about his father, and the good in him that he seemed to have somewhere forgotten along the way.

* * *

**End Note: Well. My dear friend who read this over for me said that this was a pretty emotional chapter (Thank you dearly, hun, you know who you are! *hearts*) and I hope that you all got some feels from it. **

**Another small note I want to mention before going on, as this chapter marks the halfway point, I wanted to explain something about the time line since I received an email asking. As you are reading this, time for Shamy is moving forward in a chronological fashion and these moments are simply highlights of mostly monumental moments in their lives. We started at chapter one with it being obviously way back when Sheldon first met Amy in May of 2010 and it has journeyed all the way to this chapter, which is about May of 2015 and will continue on as thus. I like to mention months so you have an idea how much time has passed between point A and point B. **

**Anyway, enough rambling, I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! I know there wasn't any smut this chapter but... next time. ;) Have a good one everyone~ **


	5. Play, Punishment, Passion

**The Emotion Amplification – Chapter 5 – Play, Punishment, Passion**

**Disclaimer: As per usual, I don't own TBBT.**

******A quick shout out to my dear friend and beta, who read this over for me, and to all of you readers- you keep my spirits high! **

**Note: This chapter contains mature content, sirs and madams. No joke, just look at the title and you'll know what you're in for. ;)  
**

* * *

Sheldon was frustrated, and by frustrated, Sheldon meant more like absolutely irritated, irked, emotionally distraught. All of the above.

He was _this _close to furthering his research to dazzling new heights, just short of great discoveries, mere inches away from the next step to the Novel Prize with his name on it, and what do the heads of the University do? Put his research aside to focus on a different study, another person's project? Working together with a less intelligent being and further their cause? The fact that said person was one Barry Kripke only made him feel that much more sour.

Hmph. As if Kripke's research was more advanced than his, and honestly, why should he have to lend his brilliant mind to that conquest?

Ridiculous, absolutely ridiculous, that's what this was.

Sheldon was simply so frustrated that he completely forgot to message Amy to pick him up from work for the third time this week. The third time. Here he was, on the bus, which for the record, had an extremely deplorable driver who hardly spoke a lick of English, _and_ he sneezed into his hand instead of over his arm like any normal human being would do. What else has that driver been touching with that sneeze infested hand? For how many days? Did they even sanitize bus seats, or the handles, or the steps? Oh lord, he was going to have to shower twice when he got home. Possibly sanitize his pores, depending on how many more seconds he had to spend on this large vehicle.

The only thing that made this day worse was the fact that Amy had yet to reply to his messages. First off, he messaged her to let her know that he ended up on the bus yet again, and was on his way home. The second message consisted of his complaints about work being rebarbative, universities plotting against him, and drivers that sneeze in their hands and not their arms because really, who does that?! Once Sheldon contemplated how his week could get any worse, a scenario consisting of a stalled bus, a monsoon, failing service towers, and zero cell phone reception creeped up and bit him in the rear. Sure, that scenario was, in all intents and purposes, 93.6% impossible, but the probability was certainly not absolute.

So, after a third message was sent to Amy, Sheldon watched his phone. And watched it, and watched it.

No response.

He stared at it, almost as if he were seeing a mutant, three-headed kitten. Amy always responded within a few minutes, and if she was busy, an away message would be set up that notified him that she was unable to come to the phone. That was how it had always been.

_Sigh_.

Sheldon just wanted to go home to Amy, her presence always made him feel better. He would explain himself, apologize for his stiff behavior as of recent– he had been more than unpleasant with her, which made him cringe when he thought on it– and he'd make some tea. Watch a movie, maybe play checkers (yeah, she'd like checkers, it was her favorite board game after all), and then he'd even ask for her to sleep with him tonight – with cuddling, of course. She still insisted that they sleep in their own rooms for the most part, which didn't bother him, but many times he longed for her company. He really hadn't meant to be so stand offish, but Kripke simply had that way of crawling under his skin.

The bus finally reached his departure point; Sheldon all too happily raced towards the exit, and passed a dirty look to the driver, "Little bit of a lead foot you have there. You know, there are people with delicate constitutions like myself who surely do not appreciate roller coaster rides in non amusement park locations."

The elderly Hispanic man turned and gave him a flat look, "Eh?"

"And speaking of delicate constitutions, I'd recommend sneezing in your arm next time, or a tissue. Sneezing in your hand is just yucky," Sheldon offered over his shoulder with a huff and stepped off the bus. He swore he heard something along the lines of 'flipping weirdo' mumbled behind him as the sliding door sealed shut (his words, not the potty mouth driver's).

What an unpleasant and unsanitary gentleman. If he had to choose between dealing with that man or huffing it during a monsoon, he's surely take the later option. Sheldon adjusted his messenger bag on his shoulder, and lightly massaged the back of his neck as a breath blew through his lips.

Home was sounding better and better. His mind kept replaying the previous scenario of his and Amy's soon-to-be activities as he walked towards his apartment complex. _What kind of tea should I make us?_

He mentally debated to himself as he trudged up the stairs towards the fourth floor. Possibly regular brew, or a spiced tea, even a soothing camomile tea was sounding rather tempting. His thoughts wandered about – from which tea to what articles they would talk about together as they played a game to which bedroom Amy would end up in.

His body quivered the tiniest bit as he reached apartment 4A, but quickly willed it to subside before entering. Twisting the knob and edging the door open, the first thing Sheldon noticed was the darkness of the room, and the silence that permeated within. The only source of light was the streak of light from the evening sun outside, and the night-light that dimly glowed in the kitchen.

Sheldon felt a sense of confusion, and of subtle disappointment at his girlfriend's apparent absence. Did she go to bed already? Was she really that upset with him that she'd ignore his messages and just go straight to sleep? His stomach churned, ridden with guilt – anxiety and he let out a low sigh as he tossed his keys into the bowl near the door. He glanced over at it when the keys clattered, noticing that Amy's were indeed there.

Frowning, Sheldon flicked on the lights and meandered to his desk, removing his jacket and messenger bag. Then, when a couple feet away, he froze in his tracks.

His eyes focused on the arm hanging off his rolling chair and the crown of smooth brown hair that peeked from above. He couldn't help but notice the bareness of the arm that traveled up and disappeared into a very familiar black shirt.

A heavy swallow. "Amy?" he called out quietly. Just what was going on?

As soon as the words left his mouth, the chair swiveled around and revealed that it was indeed Amy sitting there with – Sheldon's jaw dropped, mouth hanging open and eyes wide.

"Welcome home, Dr. Cooper," she greeted with a low, velvety tone, lips upturned into a slightly puckered smile. The leg that was crossed snug over the other bounced up and down, and the hand not dangling over the chair arm was settled upon her chin. She looked positively devilish, or more like a mad scientist, pondering her next experiment.

Blue eyes roved over her attire, which consisted of a black shirt with two white stripes on each sleeve and a bold yellow bolt of lightning encompassed by white that sat as a large emblem on her chest: his black Flash shirt.

That was it – _just a shirt_.

Sheldon was stunned and left gaping at her attire, or lack there of, "Is...is that my shirt?" He felt a startlingly familiar tingle in his skin when her grin widened.

"Oh, is it?" she cooed as she slowly uncrossed her bare leg, spread it and crossed the other over her knee, a glimpse of black panties lured his vision down to the apex of her thighs. A thunderous jolt shot down to his groin, and he visibly quaked in his spot.

Dear lord, this _vixen. _

Eyelids half-mast, Sheldon gave her a blatant once over and growled softly, "I'm not sure it even matters at this point, it won't be remaining there for long."

"Hmmm? You think so?" Amy countered darkly, shimmying her shoulders, and tilting her head back. "Well, you know what I think? I'd say that your word is rejected. Also, there is some... _punishment_ in order." Her utterance sent another staggering bolt through Sheldon's nerves, further igniting his entire being with a rampant arousal.

Their eyes connected, a silent challenge crossing from her green irises to his blue.

Sheldon's face lowered, eyes partially hidden and narrowed on her. Not two seconds later, with a throaty growl, he advanced on his expectant girlfriend. Securing a hand on each of her arms, he gracelessly yanked her to her feet and pulled her stumbling form into his chest. She pulled her head back to look at him, locks of hair sat mussed over her forehead, which she blew away with a puff of air.

Her nose scrunched up as she tried to look miffed (the look only served to rile Sheldon up more), and grabbed a fist full of his shirt, pulling him down to eye level. Her lips hovered ever so close to his; he could feel her clean, minty breath on his face. Resisting the urge to cover those couple inches of space between them to devour her mouth, Sheldon urged his brain to spin into high gear and in moments, he had a plan.

He lured her eyes down to his lip, tongue running over the plush bottom half, then pulled it into his mouth and dragging it free through his teeth. This got her every single time; once successful in his ploy, he took the opportunity to seize the tiny wrist on his chest. In one fell swoop, Sheldon ducked down and using her trapped arm as leverage, scooped his shoulder into her gut. His free arm snaked down behind her knees and with a stiff grunt, Sheldon lifted her over his shoulder.

Amy let out a shriek, then proceeded to giggle and squirm as Sheldon headed down the darkened corridor. He listened to a few words of her half hearted protests and demands to put her down before raising his free hand and clapping it down firmly on her rear, which silenced her instantly.

Though, he definitely did not miss her small hum of approval, or the light brush of her nails clawing his back. His stomach curled with ever-growing heat.

They reached the intersection between their rooms; Sheldon turned his face into Amy's side and breathed hot air against the fabric as he whispered to her, "Which?"

Instantly, she was wriggling in his hold again, "Mine."

With a swift turn of the knob, he walked them both inside and kicked the door shut with the heel of his foot. He finally deposited her to the floor just before her bed, tilting her chin up with a hand to press a turbulent kiss to her lips, while the other tethered around her waist. Her own cool hands had found their way under his shirt and massaged over his ribs, just under his pectoral muscles.

Sheldon bit back a heavy moan when Amy promptly nipped at his bottom lip, tugging it with fervor as she nudged a leg between his own. His head bobbed forward as he came to the realization that Amy was slowly, but surely taking control of the situation as she pressed against him, thigh raised and grazing against on his rapidly hardening erection.

She plucked her lips away from his and roughly lifted his shirts over his head. As he fought the dizziness accompanying the jerk that came with his disrobing, a word of reproach on his tongue, he was suddenly pulled around and shoved to her bed. His eyes popped open in surprise, a hand sliding immediately to catch himself and pull himself back up to a half sitting posture, skin prickling with the chill from the bedspread.

At this point, his senses were jumbled and mind racing to process what was happening. Was she actually mad, or was this some new play they were going to experiment with. Not that he minded, he instantly decided as he nudged himself slightly more onto the mattress, taking in the linen scent that lofted into his nasal cavities. When Sheldon felt the edge of the bed dip, his head shot up to find that Amy was now crawling over to him.

He stiffened when her fingers trailed up his leg as she sauntered towards him, nails curling into his trousers. Russet locks framed her cheeks and cascaded over her clavicle, and a provocative smile with tongue peeking out the corner of her lip completed her libidinous look. Dazed and dilated, his eyes couldn't help but glance past her shoulder as it bent down in a smooth slope, showing the delicious curve of her back and the fullness of her hips as they swayed with her movement.

Sheldon sucked in a shallow breath; her seductive conduct, matched with her expression of utter desire reminded him of a prowling feline stalking its prey. His stomach twitched as she pressed a feathery kiss to it, the tips of her hair brushing ever so sensually against his skin. The first kiss was joined by another, and another still, moving upwards until she was settled in his lap and straddling his hips.

A lingering feeling of dread – no, not dread, more like anticipation filled him. He was rendered unable to fully complete his thought as Amy slowly slid her rear against his groin, her lips curling into a deeper smile as a low hiss passed through his teeth. Heart practically bursting from his chest, Sheldon couldn't even muster any strength to resist when the brunette placed a hand upon his shoulder and pushed him flat on his back.

He swore that he heard a low-pitched chuckle reverberate from her, "So, _Doctor_, tell me– " Amy leaned down, mouth hovering dangerously close to his, her fingers smooth and hot on his cheekbone. "– what's on your mind?"

"Mm," Sheldon shivered; he couldn't even answer her. He simply closed the distance between them, pressing his lips to her's firmly. His cognitive thinking was short-circuiting, clearly not functioning anymore; she was inundating him so delectably that he couldn't even piece together what she was referring to.

As if she had read his mind, she spoke between his kisses, "You've been...upset...all week."

"I – ah!" a groan ripped from his throat as she ground into him, his mouth open to make a feeble attempt to respond. The ministrations of her tongue and gyrating hips were driving all the words down into his gut, paralyzing his voice. His head craned back into the bed, "Ah, M-theory...advancing ...closed loops – ah, spacial experimentation...halted...another project..."

"Hmm," she hummed, blowing a hot breath over the stretched hollow of his neck and tracing a delicate trail to the dip of his collarbone with her tongue. "So, you're telling me that that lisping pervert is the reason for you being cold with me?"

Amy's husky voice, along with her fingers deftly unbuckling his pants left Sheldon's mind screaming. Alright, on one hand, this did confirm that his actions had bothered her, but how was he supposed to explain himself if she kept doing...all of _this_? He couldn't even speak coherent sentences, and even thoughts were hard to form in his mind. Though, one particular thought kept repeating over and over in his brain, much like a mental mantra.

Ohh, did he want her. Want her. _Want her. _

"Amy," he rasped– the only thing he could choke out. How much was she planning to torture him?

"Well," she seemed to ignore his plea, unzipping him with a swift pull. "The natural course of action for me, as your long-established girlfriend, would be to make you feel relief from your plights...Would you like that, Sheldon?"

Her hand nimbly crept beneath the fabric of his briefs and gripped his throbbing member, casually giving it an upward stroke. Instantly, Sheldon's head snapped back further into the bed, mouth gaping in a wide 'O' and mind suddenly scrambling through the decimal numbers of Pi to keep from instantly coming in her hand.

_Three point one – four – one – five – nine – two – six...ah...Ah!_

Amy watched him with a touch of seriousness and continued to slowly pump him, "On the other hand, your cold behavior has upset me quite a bit."

Suddenly, her touch halted and he felt her lift off him, then the bed itself. Sheldon let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding, thanking Einstein that he had a moment of reprieve to catch his bearings. Though, the lack of touch only forced him to focus on the tense feeling within him, body charged and begging for release.

He shifted his eyes down as a cold breeze washed over him; Sheldon was made wholly aware that in his flurry to prevent himself from coming completely undone, she had rendered him completely naked and was just now discarding his pants to the floor. She tilted her head, finger tapping at her chin a moment as she observed him from head to toe, coaxing yet another shudder in Sheldon from her roaming eyes.

As if a light bulb had clicked to life in her mind, Amy's eyebrows popped up and she traipsed over to her tall dresser. She plucked a clear rectangular container into her hand, clicking the black cap off the top and tipping a single die into her other palm. Sheldon, who had curled up to partially cover himself, watched as she shook the small object in her fist in a vulgar gesture. He could have sworn that his toes had gone numb from the electric current that shot through him.

And he thought he was safe without her touch.

"So, " Amy let the die fall onto the mattress. "We're going to play a game, to decide and execute your punishment."

Sheldon's eyes followed her hand as it tenderly lifted the die and peered at the surface, swallowing hard as her mouth peeled into a wide smile.

_Oh lord._

"Mmm," she purred quietly. "How nostalgic. Fourteen, my win." Amy dropped it back into its case and returned it to the safety of her dresser.

Fourteen? What did that mean? They were playing a game? What about rules, or a better question, what was she about to do to him? Did he even care; she looked so attractive right now, in his shirt, rolling that die –

_I'm going mad! _

This wasn't a new thing, Amy sending his mind into a buzzing tizzy. Whenever she so much as placed a kiss upon his flesh, he was an internal mess. The more they touched, discovered, experienced each other over time, the more obsessed he became with every inch, every molecule that was Amy. It still frightened him at times, but he had long since embraced this new aspect of himself.

But this – this was so intense that he felt his limbs were cemented to the bed and his skin was on fire. His body trembled, his throat parched with breaths coming out in frantic pants as Amy stopped short of the bed. One hand stroked up her belly, pulling the shirt up while the other dipped into her panties and pulled out a small foil packet: a condom. She tossed it to him with a smile, and hooked her thumbs in the seam of her underwear, pulling them down ever so slowly. In the moments it took Sheldon to dress himself with the latex, Amy had discarded her panties and was crawling back to him.

"Now," she murmured, gently pushing him back down. "You, _Dr. Cooper_, are not allowed to touch until I say."

His eyes shot open, dilated as she settled herself over his throbbing penis and rolled her pelvis, "Wha? Nn!" Her hands held his wrists fast to his sides, and curved down to scrape her teeth over a nipple.

"You're punishment denies you permission to touch me in any manner," she pressed a wet kiss to his jaw. "Not my legs, not my hips or belly, shoulders, neck – Nothing. You relinquish control to me."

As if she hadn't already reduced him to a pile of malleable flesh and blood as it is, body crying for her desperately.

He wasn't just a mess; he was a complete catastrophe.

"Amy," he ground out as she slid her wetness against him. "Please."

A hand reached between them and positioned him just within her folds, a collective sigh breathed from each of their mouths. Amy placed one last kiss on his sternum and caught his eyes with her own as she rose, green and dark with desire.

"No touching, okay?" With a last reminder, she lowered herself down smoothly, until she was fully sheathed on his shaft. By instinct, Sheldon reached for her, hands wanting to claim her with touches, but she immediately trapped them to the mattress. Amy rose then and with a sharp thrust, was impaled upon his girth again.

Over and over, she drove against him, gasping as her lean legs worked her up and down in a rhythmic dance with the tempo of a vivacious waltz. All of Sheldon's pleasure sensors were lit ablaze with an overwhelming fire that numbed his fingertips and left his jaw locked open. His hands held a vice grip over her comforter, brain repeating 'no touching' again and again – taunting him.

A particularly deep thrust had him seeing stars, chest arching up and a coughing gasp bubbled from his lips. That familiar tightness in his gut and nether regions spiked in intensity, but it was right then that Amy slowed to a complete stop, observing him with hazy eyes.

"Sheldon," she purred, moving her hands behind her back to perch on his thighs. She rocked onto him agonizingly slow. "What do you want?"

_You, damnit! _His brain uncharacteristically cursed at her mentally, the torture had officially driven him mad. This punishment was sinful, was so evil, was so damn _amazing_. He wanted to vocalize his thoughts, curse her for being so alluring and nefarious, but he was panting so hard that he couldn't speak. He just wanted to _let go_ – render her a sobbing wreck from his attention and touch in revenge for this delicious agony she was subjecting him to. Hold her so tight that her hips would have tints of violet kisses upon her tanned skin, and drive into her depths, claim her body clad in _his _shirt.

Insanity, all over again.

"Mm?" her nails raked lightly over his thighs. "Is this what you want?" Amy lifted and jolted down, tongue resting on her upper lip.

Oh boy, he couldn't take it anymore. Delirious, Sheldon's dark irises met her inquiring gaze.

_Let me, let me, let me! _"Yes," he finally was able to hiss a response after another hard grind, eyes wholly focused on searing her with all that was buried within. His hands twitched as he released the blankets, fingers stiff from his stone grip, and hovered over her ankles. "I _want _you."

It was Amy's turn to let out a stiff moan when he bucked up into her with a sharp jerk of his hips. A deeper flush blossomed from her cheeks to her neck. Sheldon wanted to feel that heat, feel her skin so bad. She had effortlessly reduced him, within the confines of her bedroom, into a disastrous torrent of flesh and desire.

Releasing a sigh, Amy tilted her head back, showing him the beautiful length of her throat. She looked down the long bridge of her nose and murmured huskily, "Then, touch me."

Permission granted.

As if a machine had been shocked to life by an intense electric current, Sheldon's hands shot forth under his shirt and latched onto her soft hips. With a growl, Sheldon lurched forward, his buttocks sinking down into the bed and propelled into Amy's heat, _hard_.

Her abrupt cry was like music to his ears and drunk from roaring excitement, he repeated the movement again. The tightly wound belt that was Sheldon's restraint had officially lost all bearings and snapped under the pressure of release and desire, and he was determined to drag Amy down with him.

Much like the positive and negative charge of a powerful magnet, he lifted her up and would drive deep into her– the pull inescapable. In the building rhythm, Amy arched back, accentuating the crest of her breasts and their bounce as they moved against each other.

"Sheldon...Sheldon! Ah," her mewl echoed about the room, arousing him further, if the possibility could even be fathomed. Another hiss slipped through his lips as her nails dug into his thighs.

She was close to her zenith, he could tell by the way her thighs squeezed his hips and inner spasms were causing her to exquisitely tighten around his vigorously pumping erection. Her arms quaked, and her jaw hung open as a hot panting whine escaped.

Narrowing his eyes, Sheldon bucked his knees up, jerking Amy forward towards him with a surprised gasp, and locked an arm around her as he rose himself into a sitting position with the other. They took a moment to reestablish equilibrium, and settle back into each other.

Amy wound her arms around his neck and gave him a flushed stare, "Missed me?"

With a half grin, Sheldon pushed his lips forward silently, as if blowing a kiss and bucked into her. Up close, he could see the beads of sweat upon her brow, dripping down her temple. Her fevered breaths washed over him as she used her embrace of him as momentum to pulse down upon him.

He buried his face into her neck, groaning as he maneuvered, the arm around her waist tugged her even closer until she was nearly crushed to him. He wanted her closer, so much closer, the powerful will to simply devour her entirely rocked his nerves. Amy's heat, her scent, her pleasured moans and gasps for air as the friction from their bodies rubbed against her sensitive pink bud – everything was driving him under, drunk on lust and high in the clouds.

Whatever she had set out to accomplish in this game (punishment, experiment, he didn't even know anymore), he assumed it was a crashing success. He felt overwhelmed, punished, electric and on fire, all at once. Only with Amy did he feel this way.

"Amy," he purred lowly as his toes curled from the intense rush that continued to twist and build within him. The other hand not snaked around her body moved down to clutch her rear, squeezing it hard. The next moment, Sheldon's eyes rolled as the pressure all but crushed him, a deep groan seeping through his lips as he came.

Her alluring cries, rising in pitch with every hit, prompted him to continue driving up into her with harsh thrusts, grinding into her relentlessly until seconds later, when she tensed and curved back so far her hair tickled his crossed ankles. A hoarse moan bubbled from her, ecstasy pouring in waves.

Once she descended from her peak, Sheldon pulled her heaving body back from her backwards tilt, cradling a hand behind her head as it lulled, her eyes glazed and dizzy. Amy gripped his shoulders, about to move off of him, but he clamped her in place, wincing from the sensitive tingling in his groin.

" –moment," he mumbled incoherently, still catching his breath. Amy's forehead bumped to his, hands falling down to rest on his chest. He heard a faint "Sorry." whispered back as she wiped a bead of sweat from his collar with her finger.

After a few moments, Sheldon huffed, "You...you are insane, woman, you know that?"

A quiet, but spirited laugh replied, "Serves you right, being mean all week."

"I apologize, it's been an...off week at work. Krip-" Amy clapped a hand over his mouth and vigorously shook her head.

"I understand," she playfully glared. "-but no talking about other men in my bed." Sheldon snorted and pressed his mouth on her palm before she removed it. He shifted slowly, and after he gave her a small tap on her arm, Amy carefully extracted herself from Sheldon's lap and crawled off her bed. Rolling his neck, he lazily observed her as she peeled off his shirt, then paused.

His shirt...his Dungeons and Dragons die...

He fixed her with an amused stare, "Amy?"

"Hm?" she turned around to face him – her completely naked body curving tastefully – and pulled her hair over a shoulder.

_Darn that vixen. _

"You took my shirt, and my dice from my room."  
"Mhmm, yes, we already established that," she smirked at him.  
"Without my permission?"  
"It would seem so," she smoothed her hands over her hips before walking to her closet.

Discarding the soiled latex in the trash near Amy's bed, Sheldon got to his feet and approached her dresser where his dice sat.

"Hmm," he hummed, plucking it up, and eyed his girlfriend who was half hidden behind the door as she rummaged for a new shirt. With eyelids at half-mast and a grin plastered on his face, he flicked the cap open.

"Are you going to shower first then, Sheld-" a loud tap on her door interrupted her, her head popping up in confusion. When she moved around to look for the source of the noise, Sheldon was in her face. A large hand clasped her chin and yanked her in for a kiss. He then seized a wrist and started tugging her back.

Amy saw the die – the source of the noise – on her carpet vaguely as she was pulled from the closet, "What are you doing?"

"Shower."

She blinked, "Showering together would preserve water...but what-"

He stopped in the hallway, rounded on her and silenced her with a steamy stare, "You are correct in your assumption that we will be showering, Amy, but there will not be preserved water for what I'm going to do to you."

He watched as she visibly quivered, and without further explanation, tugged her into the bathroom.

_My turn._

* * *

**End Note: Um...I don't know what happened. Okay, I know exactly what happened, I simply have weird kinks okay? I'm sorry! (Not really, this is M-rated, after all.) Just like I had Sheldon initiate their last scripted encounter, I wanted Amy to this time. She really is a vixen, isn't she? I like the idea of a power play between the two, but that they both also let the other have control. Or maybe I'm just a crazy smut writing perv. Take your pick. **

**Extra Note: Sheldon's turn this time is left to your imagination (sorry, I know!), but don't worry, there is one more chapter of smut a little later.**

**This was also the last of my pre-written chapters, and though I am about 1/3 of the way through chapter 6, there may be a bit of a longer wait, so I hope this chapter will be satisfactory in the mean time.**

**I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! ;) Let me know what you thought; reviews keep my muses on full throttle! :3**


	6. The Bond, The Meeting, The Greeting

**The Emotion Amplification – Chapter 6 – The Bond, The Meeting, The Greeting**

**Disclaimer: I do not own, never will. **

**Author's Note: I really am floored by how much support this story is getting. I don't think I would have ever dreamed that I'd have this many lovely people reading and following this story. I love every single one of you!**

* * *

For the fourth time in the last ten minutes, Sheldon looked down at his dark gray trousers, wiping his hands on his thighs repeatedly to chafe some heat into his chilled palms. He stared at the coffee table with deep concentration as if he were waiting for something to burst up through the wooden panel, then turned away moments later, his hands returning (for now the fifth time) to his legs.

Was there a word to describe all of what Sheldon was feeling at this very moment? Nervous did not seem to encompass all that was passing through his mind, and fear wasn't exactly accurate either. All he knew was that the large yellow envelope sitting neat and straight on his coffee table was giving him severe heart palpitations.

_Calm down. Calm down._

When was the last time he felt this way? This amalgamation of butterflies in his stomach, heart in his throat, and legs shaking ever so slightly – Sheldon could think of several instances, all of them had one common factor, just like the packet before him.

Amy Farrah Fowler.

This time though, he concluded, was much more intense. As if a curtain of uncertainty, doubt, and stomach curling uneasiness was plaguing him, restraining him like a tight rope. He sighed to himself, pacing back and forth near the coffee table, fingers tapping incessantly over his chin. There was no use panicking; nothing had even happened yet.

Of course, it was entirely possible that the fact that nothing _had _happened yet was only giving him reason to play through the endless scenarios that could play out the moment his girlfriend walked in the door.

Amy was due home anytime now; she'd definitely be all smiles and he would greet her with a warm kiss and ask about her day as they drank tea together. They would happily converse in idle chit chat and simply enjoy each others' company; she would not be expecting the events that would unfold between them.

Suddenly, that very thought just revved his mind into a rolling tumble once again. His eyes, blue and wide, shifted to the door, then back down to the envelope. Shaking his head with an intense vigor, Sheldon turned around and moseyed into the kitchen, clattering about awkwardly with the tea kettle to put some water on the stove.

Yes, tea would be proper given how jittery his nerves were. Tea was good, tea was calming, tea was-

The slam of a door caused Sheldon's heart to leap into his throat, skin taut and breaking out with goose flesh. He rubbed his arms to banish the chill away, blinking when sharp footsteps clacked and eventually disappeared down the stairs. Placing a hand to his chest, he blew out a breath of air.

Goodness gracious, he was as panicky as a twittering rabbit.

It was just the neighbor across the hall, a woman who had moved in a couple months prior. She was a single mom named Katrine (but call her Kat, she insists) with an elementary aged son, and was a receptionist for a local dentist. Sheldon hadn't spoken with her all that much, unlike Amy who was quick to welcome the energetic woman. He just didn't really feel the need to bother; Kat worked for a dentist that Sheldon had no business dealing with- he had his own dentist and wasn't about to change that. She was also extremely bubbly, and while a fiery redhead, reminded him of a certain Nebraskan, recently married blonde. He could only deal with so many eccentric people.

He had a much easier and relaxing time with calmer, more level headed people– yet lovely, quirky, and brilliant.

_Like Amy? _

He swiped a hand around his scalp, trying to calm himself again. Why even thinking of her by name was driving all his thoughts into the ground and replacing them was a bubbling and chaotic mix of emotions, he...well, he knew why. He shot another look back over to the table, and that stupid, _stupid_ yellow envelope.

"Stop taunting me," Sheldon scoffed, mouth twisted into a frown, looking as if the offending object was going to leap out at him and screech. Slowly turning back around, he pinched the bridge of his nose with one hand while pulling down two mugs from the cupboard with the other. Everything would be just fine, nothing could go wrong; Amy would understand, right? He sure hoped she would, this was Amy- the woman he's been in a long term relationship with for over five years now. She was_ everything _to him. It took a while to admit such a thing, but now it was as simple and natural as breathing.

He nodded to himself as he sifted through the box of assorted teas, plucking out two packets of ginger white tea and placing the opened tea bags into the cups.

...

Oh, lord, this was simply ridiculous. Sheldon stared up at the ceiling, a tickling in the back of his brain becoming ever-present in his mind. Swirling and swirling like water flooding down a drain, Sheldon's thoughts looped ever so ominously. He couldn't stop thinking about it, and he couldn't stop _looking _at it- that off yellow color so glaringly bright on the dark wood of the table. Maybe going over some emotional math while waiting for the tea to finish would do some good-

"Sheldon?"

Sheldon swore he about climbed on the counter at the sudden click of the door and the smooth (yet deep from lethargy) voice of his girlfriend. Eyes wide, he turned around slowly to face her; she was currently eying him with a raised brow.

"Are you...alright?" she questioned, pausing in the removal of her flats, and still in a half crouching position. Internally sucking in a deep breath, Sheldon nodded and maneuvered around the island to approach her. Once she had finished removing her shoes, Amy looked up at him with an innocent smile, lifting up to the tip of her toes and resting her palms on his chest to press a sweet kiss to his lips. His hands cupped under her bent elbows to hold her to him for several moments, lingering in the faint scent of her floral soap, and her addictive warmth.

She bounced back down to her feet and peeked into the kitchen, smiling gratefully, "What's on the tea menu today?"

"Ah– mm, ginger white tea," Sheldon cleared his throat of the unknown scratchiness that found a home there, and returned back to the stove. "It's almost... done." Mentally cursing his lack of articulation, Sheldon shook his head. As if he couldn't look any more suspicious, he sighed to himself and switched the burner off to silence the whistling kettle.

This was turning out to be undeniably difficult, shaky nerves getting the better of him.

"Are you sure you're alright, Sheldon?" came Amy's voice again from behind him. Sheldon looked to find her still standing, almost awkwardly by the door, arms flat at her sides and fingers clutching at her cream skirt.

"I assure you this is not about not being able to partake in your work with you; banish the thought," he replied instantly, pouring the water into their individual mugs. While he was on vacation from work for this given week, and he had initially wanted to go to UCLA with her, Sheldon understood immediately when Amy explained that she was doing a line of very important experiments – research on cranial neoplasms – and needed to concentrate. This would most likely mean more work for her, but this was the opportunity of a lifetime for Amy, and Sheldon knew what this meant to her.

When she had finished explaining her findings earlier in the week, eyes sullen and body tired from days of little rest and urgent enthusiasm, Sheldon had simply embraced her tightly and promised a cup of tea for her everyday when she came home.

Besides, once he was given the time to himself to really think about _certain_ ideas that had been popping up rather frequently as of late, his mind ended up occupied elsewhere. After two days of serious contemplation, some prodding for vague advice from Leonard and Penny (both of which didn't really give him any advice he could use as they pretty much told him the same thing - 'do what feels right'), and a quick, but thorough creation that were the contents of a certain distracting yellow envelope currently sitting on the table.

Looking at Amy, who had gone to sit in her spot on their couch, Sheldon nervously wondered– how she would take it all? He honestly hoped that she wouldn't become too distraught or disbelieving – Truly, truly hoped.

He ever so slowly moved to where she sat, placing a mug of steaming tea on a coaster in front of her, then stood on the other side of the table. She smiled, murmuring a quick "Thank you." before taking a tiny sip. Once Sheldon knew that Amy was looking curiously as the envelope in front of her, he started to shift back and forth, putting his weight on one foot, followed by the other almost as if he needed to use the restroom urgently.

A clank broke the silence that had permeated for several seconds- Amy placed the cup down, "Sheldon, what's wrong?" She had placed her fingertips on the edge of the table, so near the very reason he was beginning to sweat, her green eyes piercing him with a look that clearly said 'tell me now'.

It was now or never. "Amy, we need to talk," Sheldon sputtered, shuffling a step closer. Even he could tell it was not the answer she was expecting; Amy continued to watch him, though clearly her expression changed from firm to confused. He closed his eyes, mentally kicking himself for his, yet again, dazzling display of articulacy– no sarcasm sign necessary.

_Do what feels right:_ A soft reminder.

Swallowing what felt like a steel ball, Sheldon motioned towards the packet with his palm side up, gesturing for her to take it. His chest was tight, heart pounding like it was ready to detonate like a bomb, and eyes nailed to her hands as they reached forward- he was readying himself for one of the most crazy, life altering moments of his entire existence. The silence in the air only made the ringing in his ears sound louder, and he desperately tried to rub away the clamminess from his palms.

Amy didn't even ask what its contents were, only peeled the small metal pin open and slipped out the innards: a neatly organized stack of papers, about one centimeter thick that were bound elegantly by a black leather binding. The cover was blank, though Sheldon watched as Amy picked at an odd bump the size of a penny that sat near the top, nose scrunched up in that particular manner that he always found adorable.

She held the item tenderly, almost as if admiring a wondrous piece of art, and it left Sheldon feeling oddly happy, yet more and more frightened. Time seemed to slow down to an agonizing crawl, her fingers traced along the edges and started to peel away the first page, gaze catching the first glimpse of what was hidden within.

Then, as if the space around them had instantly accelerated like a bullet being sprung from the chamber of a pistol, Amy's hand shot back to slam the document shut, and flung it to the table almost as if it had burned her. One hand, followed by the other clamped tight over her mouth; several breathy gasps flooded out of her muffled mouth, green eyes – wide and staring right into him – started to water.

In an split second, Sheldon was frantic.

He had expected many things, but this literally threw him for a loop, and his stomach twisted as if in a vice, to the point that he wanted to hide under the table in front of him. He tried to will words from his mouth, but his vocals were sticky and instead he chewed his bottom lip ever so aggressively. Sheldon could see her shoulders rise and fall heavily with her labored breaths, and almost raced to her side to placate her, calm her, pull her into his arms. He had clearly upset her and she literally was about to cry, tears pooling to the brim and about to spill down her reddened cheeks, eyes never leaving his. Swallowing, he held their locked gaze and moved by her side on the couch, placing a hand on her lower back.

Is this how these situations always went? Amy was definitely not one to be very outwardly emotional, so her weepy behavior unnerved– worried him terribly. Sheldon knew he wasn't the best at these kinds of displays; he was still an awkward man when it came to a gesture like..._ this_, he would be the first to admit that.

Hand rubbing faint circles, the only other thing Sheldon could do was stare back, fueling as much of his thoughts into the blue of his irises as he could to hearten her, and gave Amy the faintest of smiles. To his relief, her posture released from its tensed state, and her hands slowly fell from her lips, which quivered the slightest bit as she reached back for the abandoned papers again. Taking a long, liberating breath – in deeply through the nose, out through the mouth – and curling a hand under the back, Amy opened the page once more.

He watched the laminated cover fold open, fully this time, to reveal what exactly it was that had caused her such a drastic change in demeanor. This time, she simply stared at what was in front of her, and slowly, Sheldon felt her relax (which in turn relaxed him as well) as her eyes softened into a beautiful haze.

Amy's finger looped ever so delicately into the thin band that was tied to a white ribbon and held by a small dot of red wax – a rose gold ring, embedded in the middle with an oval-shaped soft pink tourmaline gem and two green sapphires nestled intimately on either side of it. Just below the shining ring, there lied the other reason for her emotional outburst, written in a bold black font on the page–

_**The Matrimony Agreement**_

He watched her pull the string of the ribbon, slowly, until the ring dropped free and into her waiting hand. Sheldon seriously worried if she was even breathing anymore; everything around them seemed to have quieted and the air stilled like they were in the vacuum of space. Her wet, green eyes shifted between the sparkling rustic gold and gem decorated ring in her shaking hand and the papers still loosely clutched in the other, lip quivering as she fought back tears.

Finally snapping out of his nerve-wrecked spell, Sheldon slid his comforting hand around her waist and tugged her just a nudge closer to him, watching her gradually transform with wonder. She was practically glowing, and it made his chest very warm at the absolute happiness in her tearful eyes and widening smile. Tenderly taking the ring from her hand, Sheldon shifted to pull her left ring finger up and silently slipped the band upon it, then bent down to place a soft kiss on the knuckle.

She loved it, Sheldon could see it – _feel_ it. He wanted his presentation to be perfect, at least for the opening. He had spent several hours (literally) spanning over five trips and three jewelry stores to locate that particular, rare find. Once he laid eyes on it, it seemed to sprout a mouth and scream – _This is Amy's_ – right at him. He may not have been the best at buying feminine presents, and jewelry was even more of a challenge, but this – It perfectly symbolized what she was to him: unique, bright, and beautiful; he bought it instantly.

He could hear Amy sniffle just a touch, then let out a bubbly laugh as he set her hand back down to her lap. She reached for her glasses, removing them to wipe a sleeved wrist over her watering eyes, catching the couple droplets that plopped down her cheeks. Placing the bifocals back on the bridge of her nose, Amy turned to look at him, her hands tightly clutching the still unexplored document in her lap.

"Sheldon," she murmured, closing her eyes as if she were thinking deeply, or fighting back more tears. "This...this is-"

Sheldon sheepishly scratched a finger on his cheek, and spoke in a hushed tone, "I know it isn't dinner and a glass of white champagne..." A choked sob, mixed with a laugh, burst from her mouth and another few tears dripped from her eyes. She moved her jeweled hand up to his face, cupping his jaw softly. Her smooth touch felt wonderful on his flushed (oh dear, he was certainly blushing) cheek; Sheldon could help but grasp her tiny wrist and tilt his face into her palm.

"Can I just say 'yes' now?" Amy hummed as she looked back down to her lap, and the object that sat on it, running a finger on the spine. She absentmindedly flipped the page open again to pick at the red wax until it was cleaned off the page, then turned to the following page and paused, blinking.

It was blank, followed by the next, and the next– all the way to the end.

Amy looked up into his eyes and tilted her head, "It's empty?"

Sheldon nodded slowly, his eyes lightly drooped as he gazed at her through his lashes and smiled gently, "Given the concept of matrimony being a partnership– lovers operating on equal fronts, I thought it'd be only be..." he stroked a hand down her arm. "–natural that we constructed this one together."

He watched as her face split into an even wider grin as she fanned the pages from front to back, creating a small paper-scented breeze, and let the booklet close. Amy slid the agreement onto the table and turned to Sheldon, nodding.

"It _is_ okay for me to say yes now, right?" she grinned, reaching an arm around Sheldon's neck and scratching lightly on the scruff of his short hair.

_As if I'd ever want another answer._

"A positive response would be most welcome, Amy," he replied, curling an arm around her and pulling her against him. He placed a kiss to her cheek and let his head bump against hers, the both of them sitting in silence as Amy fondled and played with the ring on her finger.

Any lingering thoughts of nervousness were completely evaporated at this point, and Sheldon had to mentally give a point or two to Leonard and Penny. Their advice had, in all intents and purposes, been spot on. He truly felt thankful, glad that his plan had turned out wonderfully, and that Amy was happy.

"It's an interesting alloy, rose gold," he heard her muse to herself. "Typically an altered gold, given its color by the addition of copper to the gold compounds, very similar in concept to white gold. Usually, to create a smooth, rustic color, the combination would be about seventy-five percent gold and twenty-five percent copper."

He chuckled to himself, amused by the fact that he ran through the same exact thoughts as he wandered the jewelry store and perused all the multiple styles of gold displayed.

"It used to be referred to as Russian gold back in the nineteenth century, though is now a term dubbed obsolete," Sheldon added randomly, shifting his head against hers ever so slightly.

"An interesting factoid."

A pause.

"Did you have a date in mind for...getting married?" she asked quietly, lifting those enchanting green irises to his, almost as if she were trying to probe his mind. Sheldon immediately nodded, trying not let the close proximity of her distract him– though he caught himself in the middle of counting four, five, six specks of gold in the depths her left eye.

"I suggest once we constitute and finalize the agreement," Sheldon pulled on Amy's leg, settling it more comfortably over his thigh. "What do you think?"

Amy nestled down into him, letting her head drop into the crook of his neck,"What if we finished it rather quickly though? For instance, we could hypothetically codify and ultimately conclude its construction by tomorrow."

"If that were the case,"Sheldon lifted a finger and gestured towards his desk across the living room. "Then the next day we'd take the certificate I have already acquired, complete it, and bring it downtown to the courthouse."

He felt her jolt in his embrace, most likely from shock at his answer. Sheldon himself would admit that in the past, he would definitely have scoffed at the idea of finishing an important document in such a little span of time. Even the idea of marriage used to be a concept whose importance to the large majority of humanity escaped him entirely.

Relationships, love, marriage– all of it was a puzzle that in the past, Sheldon had no interest in discovering, let alone experience and piece together. He could not say the same of himself, in the here and now. Not even a little.

"Really?"  
"Most certainly, if that were the case."  
Amy giggled,"It's simply hypothetical anyway, we both know it'll take longer than a day."

Sheldon knew this was the case too, but he wanted Amy to know how much he also wanted this. In terms of the stability of their relationship, a documented piece of paper didn't have the power to alter all that they have experienced with each other, the journey they had partaken in together, the changes they already made to make them better people– for themselves and each other. Yet, at the same time, the idea of being officially bonded with the one and only person he could say was all-important made his heart beat just a bit faster.

He mentally chuckled– who would have thought he'd end up down this road?

"Sheldon?" her voice suddenly chirped, striking him from his inner thoughts.  
He peered down to the crown of her head, "Yes, Amy?"  
"Our tea is cold."

Sheldon laughed, tilting his head back, suddenly becoming aware that the two of them indeed had never touched their hot beverages. He wrapped an arm around her, "I love you, you know that?"

"Never once have I doubted that," she leaned up to kiss him.

He squeezed her tight.

Sheldon would see to it that she'd never have to.

* * *

Humorously enough, while they did not complete the construction of their new Matrimony Agreement in a single day, it only took a handful– eight and a half to be precise– and on September twenty-seventh of two-thousand fifteen, they were officially married.

The events that unfolded around them the days after had swept them up into a wild whirlwind consisting of work, adjusting routines around the apartment, and buying a small number of new necessities. They rearranged their bedrooms; Amy's bed (the larger of the two) was moved into Sheldon's room along with her dresser, and what once was her own room became their recreation-slash-storage room. His plethora of comic books, her small collection of classic novels, his theremin and keyboard, her harp– everything was neatly organized and kept there.

The first night they slept together in _their_ bed, Sheldon felt absolutely giddy. They spent a long while curled up together under the navy blankets like kittens snuggling for warmth, chit chatting about their work, news, random factoids, and then they played a random, but later steamy round of Dungeons and Dragons. He had forgotten just how potent her sultry voice was when it articulated her actions of sexual ministrations, and Sheldon may or may not have been able to resist touching her– just a little.

He was certain that he nodded off before she did, as when he woke in the morning, Sheldon found himself mostly cocooned beneath the comforter and his dice were sitting within their container on the nightstand beside him. While they were no longer snuggled together, Amy's hand was brushed against his, a couple fingers intertwined together.

One random day, a couple days into their married life, Amy brought up a very startling topic to Sheldon over breakfast and tea.

"Have you noticed that we failed to tell our friends about our marriage?"

Oh..._Drat._

Sheldon immediately imagined an enraged and hysterical Penny, and shuddered momentarily. They really hadn't had that much spare time between work and their apartment work to even think about much else. He couldn't believe that he had failed to mention it when he ate lunch with Leonard just the day before. A silent stare passed between them, and ultimately they decided to tell them all in person the next time they all collected together for a dinner night.

Oh, what an explosion that was.

Penny had, as expected, verbally flipped a lid, "First off, you come to me for advice for absolute nonsense that you refused to explain, and now you guys went off and got married, and you didn't _tell me_?"

Leonard spent many a minute trying to calm her, but had expressed his displeasure as well. Rajesh promptly burst into an emotional rant, lamenting over the fact that they hadn't had a ceremony and that he would have given them one hell of a speech. Bernadette took the news the easiest; she sent them both a small smile and lifted her glass of wine to them in congratulations.

Oddly, Howard had remained silent during the whole fiasco of Penny's blabbering and Raj's dramatic caterwauling, until just after he finished his glass of wine.

He glanced over to Amy, a look of mischief on his face,"I guess this mean that you guys'll finally...you know." He made a _chik-chik _noise with his cheek and winked suggestively, and Sheldon watched his wife's eyes widen and a deep blush spread across her face and ears. Bernadette promptly whacked her husband on the arm and reprimanded him with a low hiss.

Sheldon raised a brow, confused, "What are you talking about?" The collective group all turned to look at him when he sliced the chaos with the bewildered inquiry. He passed a look over to Amy, who found her glass of wine rather interesting.

Penny eyed him dangerously, "What do you mean, Sheldon?" She lifted her glass to her lips just as he opened his mouth–

"Howard's vulgar attempt at insinuating a sexual encounter between Amy and I is exorbitant. We've been sexually intimate for over a year now." Sheldon's candid response prompted three events: Penny gulped her wine down in an attempt to not spray it all over Leonard, letting out a harsh cough and cupping her palm under her lips to keep from dribbling any remnants. Leonard (while rubbing Penny's back soothingly), Howard, and Raj all stared at Sheldon as if he'd morphed into a Klingon, jaws dropped and stunned into silence.

Bernadette simply sat in her chair, sipping her drink, "Called it."

Sheldon raised a brow and cast the small blonde an odd glance, but questioned her no further. From behind him, Amy cleared her throat, setting her glass on the table.

"A-anyway, that's the update. Sorry we didn't tell you right away– about the _marriage_! The marriage," she paused awkwardly. "– um, so what's been new with everyone else?"

"Oh, no you don't sister," Penny slapped a hand down on the table and pointed to the newly wed pair. "You may have gone and got hitched or whatever without anyone knowing, but what about a party? You can't_ not _have a reception."

"Yeah!" Raj piped in after recovering from his stupor. "I could throw a fantastic soiree!"

Amy crossed her legs,"Our mothers are arranging one from what we've gathered."

Penny pursed her lips,"Good. When?"

Just then, a subtle buzz vibrated from Sheldon's pocket; he pulled out his cellular device silently and check the message he had just received. He swallowed heavily and looked to his curious wife, showing her the text. She adjusted her glasses, and grimaced just a touch.

He looked to the group, "According to Missy, three weeks from now."

_Oh boy. _

* * *

Exhausted– an extremely appropriate description of how Sheldon felt as he traveled down the narrow cement path, Amy trailing close beside him with the slow clicks of her heels.

The two of them were walking through a community park, the location of their "wedding reception" and Sheldon had to wonder what the heck people were thinking when they decided that mashing two sides of a family together in a party setting was _ever_ a good idea. He really had underestimated his mother's skill of throwing together things in a short span of time. An exuberant Mary Cooper (along with a surprisingly chipper Joanie Fowler) had flawlessly accumulated not only his rather hefty sized family, but Amy's as well.

Adding their various friends and coworkers – some of which he wondered how they were even acquainted – to the mix, there were surely enough people to trample him three times over, and he had never felt so suffocated in his life. Amy had quickly sensed his distress by the third crowd of people and had excused them for a moment to catch some air and a little space from the masses. Sheldon knew his mother meant well; she was simply basking in the happiness of her baby boy getting married and wanted to share that with...well, everyone (and boy, did she).

It was a formal event, so they all had to dress up and according to Amy, her bestie and both their mother's had decided that she needed to have some sort of wedding gown. She had kept her attire simple, and Sheldon still couldn't help but stare at her whenever he had caught her in his sights as they perused the grounds. Her dress was a creamy white and for once, she did not wear a shawl or cardigan over it– though Sheldon made sure to bring one with, just in case . The gown accentuated her subtle curves: elbow sleeves, square collar and of course, a rare form fitting fabric all the way down to her hips where the dress flared out elegantly to her knees. Accompanied with white heels and some thick curls added to the ends of her hair, Amy looked truly like a bride.

While Sheldon liked her normal choice of attire just fine, he definitely couldn't deny how lovely she looked then too. Amy only made herself even more enchanting when she first showed him the gown in their living room the day before, twirling just a tad before grinning at him playfully, "_You know, this dress would go great with that one tie you own...Silver Surfer, was it_?"

Sheldon couldn't remember a time when he felt as enamored as he did that moment.

As much as possible, the two of them stuck together while they continued making brief rounds to all their relatives, friends, and other guests (just how many were there, anyway?). A large portion of Sheldon's side of the family spent more time in awe of the fact the he was married in the first place, let alone before either of his siblings, which honestly was more exhausting than anything. It wasn't unfathomable, him falling in love with someone and marrying them, at least not to him. Then again, the loud, boisterous guffawing and warbling of Texan men and women were normal for his family, and they could very well just be over-excited, much like his mother.

Amy's family were equally as eccentric as his own, and Sheldon couldn't help but muse that the two of them had really only served to double the crazy in their families with their marriage. Amy joked as they wandered from one of her aunts to the drink table that perhaps they were the sane ones after all. Sheldon let out a small, breathy laugh; she was more than likely correct in her assumption.

He vaguely heard some loud, off-key singing somewhere across the park from their friends as they sang karaoke with George Jr. and Missy before a soft voice called the couple's attention to behind them.

"Here you are, Moonpie."

They both turned around to find an elderly woman, with long brown and gray peppered hair tied into a braid that hung on her shoulder, smiling tenderly at them, gentle blue eyes full of mirth.

"Meemaw!" Sheldon breathed, immediately enveloping his small grandmother into a firm embrace. She was the first person he had wanted to see at this event– he talked incessantly about Amy and their recent marriage almost every phone call he made to her, and Meemaw made it clear she wanted to meet her. Sheldon could not have been happier to see the small, homely woman.

"My, there are...so many people here," she chortled, scanning the crowds of people before settling back on the couple. "Mary sure went all out on this one, eh? Ya poor things."

Sheldon smiled warmly, nodding slowly like he was in a trance. She was really here, in California, just to see him and Amy. It made the last remainders of anxiety that lingered dissipate – the majority being vanquished by the presence of his wife – and left him feeling comfortable for the first time this whole afternoon, it had been so long since he'd last seen his grandmother.

He tilted his head and gestured over to Amy, who was standing just to his right, "Meemaw, this is my wife, Amy. I've told you about her."

"Of course, of course, I've been waitin' to meet this lil' firecracker you've been talkin' about," Meemaw reached a hand forward to take Amy's extended and waiting hand. "Hello dear, my name's Lillia. All my darlin's call me Meemaw, feel free to do the same."

"It's a pleasure to meet you," Amy shook her hand vigorously. "Sheldon has also told me so much about you."

"Has he now?" Meemaw eyed him with a look he couldn't quite place, and Sheldon couldn't help but tilt his head in confusion. Why wouldn't he talk about his favorite Meemaw to anyone and everyone?

"I'm sure he's told you many, many stories of his childhood spend at my ol' home, then?"

"Um, well a few," he could see Amy had caught on to the odd look on his grandmother's face. For some reason, a sudden memory of a grumbling sister invaded his mind from the last time he spent the holidays in Texas.

"Did he ever tell ya about how he'd polish my silver for me?" Sheldon's eyes lit up in what felt like a quick, snapping epiphany that clapped him in the face. "He also polished my gun collection for me as well. Moonpie always did splendid work with the shotgun I keep mounted on my mantle."

Right, Sheldon remembered now– stories that George and Missy would tell about Meemaw's notorious habit of talking about her gun collection to his sibling's potential suitors. Then she'd talk about how she once chased a man off her land when he dared break her daughter's heart, and how her marksmanship was top notch, even better than Pop Pop's. He always wondered why they dreaded bringing their lovers home for the holidays, and now, he seemed to understand– even if only a little. Meemaw was a mischievous woman; that was the very reason why Sheldon loved her so much.

"I've chased many away with my ol' shotty; I may be old, but nothing will keep me from protectin' my land or my babies. This ol' bitty is a champeen shooter."

He looked over to Amy nervously, gauging her reaction, and oddly found her staring at Meemaw with a peculiar expression. Her arms were lightly crossed, but Sheldon didn't find the action defensive at all; Amy clearly looked deep in thought.

Suddenly, her arm sprang forward, palm up and index finger pointing outward, "You know, my uncle collects silver horseshoes." Sheldon's head sprung back a little, and he could see that his grandmother had done the same. What? "He was an avid player, and probably had at _least _fifty of them, all various grades of silver. I remember being in high school, and he always would complain to my mother about the rashes he'd get from his high grade polish he _insisted_ on buying."

Sheldon shifted his eyes from his wife to Meemaw, while still listening to Amy's story.

"He was suffering from a mild case of contact dermatitus; the chemicals found in most store bought polishes have toxins that are harmful to living organisms and even light contact can break sensitive skin out in rashes and blister them," Amy brought her pointed finger up to her mouth and briefly shook her head. "Anyway, it reminded me of some random tinkering I was doing in school during chemistry and I researched on how to make some polish out of household items. Smudge-free and everything."

"Really now? And it works?" Meemaw asked, to which Amy nodded with a grin.

"Yep, the horseshoes sparkled like new," she replied with humor in her tone. "He even sent me a pair as a present for when I went off to college. 'Put 'em in your purse, darlin.' he told me. Strangely enough, I never did have to use them."

"That's...mighty interestin'."

"I could only imagine it would work just as well for any grade of steel that is used for your various weaponry. Meticulous upkeep on any gun is important for continued and flawless use, after all."

Meemaw stood silent for what felt to Sheldon like eternity, eying Amy through narrowed lids as if she were scrutinizing marked prey. He felt his hands clam up in a cold sweat, and waited with a held breath until his grandmother finally blinked. She lifted a small hand, leaning forward to clap it firmly on Amy's arm, the force hard enough to bump her against his own.

Meemaw let out a hearty cackle,"Hah! Moonpie, this lil' lady is absolute gold!"

Sheldon's face broke out in a wide smile, a hand raising up to rest on Amy's back, chest swelling with pride and love. He knew Meemaw would see it– the charm and loveable quirkiness that Amy displayed effortlessly.

"Oh!" Amy moved away from Sheldon's hold. "My mother is gesturing me over, I'll be right back."

"Okay," he nodded and stepped back a touch.

Meemaw leaned up close to Amy, and gave a motherly peck on her cheek,"It was wonderful to finally meet ya, sweet pea." A light pink hue marked the crest of his wife's cheeks, and Amy returned the gesture.

"You as well, Meemaw."

Once Amy had trotted away to join her mother, Sheldon and his Meemaw exchanged a look. Stepping close, she tilted ever so slightly towards him, "That one is a treasure. Treat her right, ya hear?"

Sheldon hummed in agreement as he watched his wife animatedly talk with Mrs. Fowler.

Always.

* * *

When the two of them returned home late in the evening, Sheldon expressed the will the simply collapse to the floor once inside the apartment. Peeling her heels off and flexing her sore toes within nude nylons, Amy chuckled and confirmed her exhaustion as well.

"I'd prefer you find a less hazardous place to fall, Sheldon." she playfully chastised as she lined her shoes up neatly by the door for the time being. "I'll put on some water for tea."

Sheldon loosened the knot of his Silver Surfer tie, sighing gratefully, "Thank you, Amy."

"Mhmm."

The longer the party went on, the more rowdy the occupants of the park seemed to get. Sheldon didn't know from where, but before he knew it, many of the people had beers in their hands and the comments made became all the more raunchy. He didn't think he could count on both hands and toes how many times his relatives insinuated the traditional "wedding night" I.E. passionate, unbridled love-making to him and Amy as they merrily swung their arms and danced to music that no one heard.

He pinched the bridge of his nose at the mind-numbing memory as he wandered to the couch and plopped himself down with a hefty breath.

"I think I've filled about five years quota of seeing my family," he groaned as he tilted his head back, resting an arm over his eyes. He heard Amy's laugh retreat down the hallway, most likely to put her heels away. Sheldon simply sat in the welcomed silence; his ears still felt a bit fuzzy from all the chaotic noise of the party.

When she padded quietly back out into the living room, Sheldon peeked at her from under his arm, watching as she gracefully pulled her hair back into a ponytail. Snug under her arm, was a blue index card case, which she lightly pitched onto the coffee table on her way to the kitchen. Within minutes of tinkering in the kitchen, Amy brought over two steaming mugs of tea, and handed Sheldon the blue one.

"Thank you," he gave her a small smile, then motioned towards the case on the table. "What's that?"

Taking a sip from her own yellow cup, Amy plucked the item up into her free hand,"I figured we could use some...stimulation after this afternoon's events. Counterfactuals?"

Setting his cup over on the stand to his left, Sheldon patted his legs, spreading them wider,"Certainly. Come 'ere." Amy beamed as she removed the glossy cards from their home and sat herself in his spot, between his thighs, and leaned back against him. She picked up a card and passed it near her face.

"Go first?"  
"Alright," Sheldon peered at the card. "In a world where dice never existed, which United States city flag would have one less star?"  
"Hmm," Amy closed her eyes a moment, deep in thought. "Ah, Chicago."  
"Defend."

"The second star of Chicago's flag is a representation and memorial of the Great Chicago Fire of 1871. If dice did not exist, then the game craps would have not come to be. Louis Cohn would not have been gambling in the barn, and thus would not have knocked over a lit lantern upon his escape after being chased away by the farm owners. The fire would have never started, and thus one less star on the flag."

"Correct, you're turn."

Amy took the card back and placed it at the bottom, then plucked up another, "Alright, in a world where glass is not transparent..."

They spent almost an hour going back and forth; Sheldon's exhaustion and stress quickly became replaced with a comfortable peace, warmth increasing as Amy cuddled closer to his worn body. Eventually, having gone through a majority of the cards, the couple sat in silence – Amy had curled sideways, her legs stretched across the seat cushions and cheek presses against his chest, while Sheldon placed his hand on her belly.

Suddenly, Amy spoke, "Sheldon?"

"Hm?" his eyes, which he hadn't realized he closed, fluttered open to look down at her.

"I enjoyed meeting your Meemaw. She's a pleasant woman; I can see why you hold her in such high regard."

Sheldon smiled, "She likes you too, a lot." Then, he pondered to himself a moment, a particular thought entering his mind as he absorbed Amy's previous comment.

_High regard._

Just then, an idea came to Sheldon like a drifting dulcet breeze.

"Hey... Amy?"

* * *

Even in late autumn, the trees in Glendale were lush and danced around in the subtle breeze that wafted about. The air was cool in the late morning, and as the couple walked down the bustling sidewalk, Sheldon nestled just a tad deeper in the scarf around his neck. He finished off the remnants of his coffee shop hot cocoa and discarded the disposable cup in a nearby trash bin.

Amy, who was slightly further ahead, walked silently, and had her hands clasped together behind her back.

He kept his sights on her as she led him towards their destination, and stopped when they reached the large, steel gates – partially rusted and giving off a solemn feel as Amy moved it open; a long drawling creek sounded out in the quiet air.

Sheldon listened to the crisp, slightly yellow and worn grass – along with the warm-colored leaves that had fallen from the nearby deciduous trees that surrounded the grounds – crunch beneath his feet as they strayed off the gravel path that spanned around in a looping circle from one entrance to the other and into an aisle that was garnished with a neatly aligned row of various granite plaques and headstones.

Amy stopped then, her somber green eyes falling upon a dark, medium sized headstone that was maybe a foot tall. The marker looked well kept, clean with stone vases on either side that held small bundles of red and white carnations, relatively fresh. Sheldon stepped up next to his wife, placing a supporting hand on the back of her neck, and handed her the bundle that had been tucked under his arm – a small bouquet of flowers consisting of yellow roses, baby's breath, and white daisies.

She smiled at him, accepting the package and stepped forward towards the memorial, placing the flowers down gently at the base as she crouched down. A small, gloved hand set itself upon the top curve of the stone marker, stroking a slow path over the edge and down over the engravings that were carved on the front in a stark white.

When she stood again a minute later, Sheldon took Amy's hand as she moved next to him, channeling a stream of comfort to her. He watched her – the small smile on her face, the gentle, but sad expression in her eyes, and the squeeze she gave the hand that curled around hers – until she opened her mouth.

"Hello Dad, I'm sorry it's been so long since I've visited," she had to clear her throat to speak, voice croaking just a bit. "I brought someone here; he wanted to meet you."

He squeezed her hand again when she wiped a solitary tear from beneath her glasses.

"Dad, this is Dr. Sheldon Cooper – my husband."

Once the words left her mouth, Sheldon inclined his head towards the grave, his mind whirling and forming the image of an imaginary man – tall in height, eyes a charming and familiar green with a fluffing of baking flour patted upon a well-worn apron and a smile that reflected a wisdom and love for his family that could not be rivaled – and through firm blue irises, Sheldon saw that very man come to life for a fleeting moment.

Smiling ever so slightly, Sheldon spoke, "Hello, Mr. Fowler. It is a pleasure to finally meet you."

* * *

**End Notes: Yes, this is long, I know. I almost split it into two chapters, but it's all pretty much one theme, family – becoming family, being with family, and meeting family – so I ultimately kept it together.**

**I know there are some who displayed some worry about my portrayal of Sheldon, seeing it in a sort of negative light, but I do want to say that I've never envisioned him that way, and have never intended him to be that way in this story. He, to me, is an awkward and imperfect person who still has a ways to go. But, I -do- take all comments to heart, and kept a closer eye on things from here on out. I hope that it's a little more noticeable. :) **

**I do hope everyone enjoyed this chapter, despite it's length, and got a couple feels from it. :) Should be about two chapters left if my estimates are correct, and the next should be up within a week, hopefully. **

**Leave a comment and let me know what you think! Thank you to all my readers and see you next time! **


	7. Phantoms

**The Emotion Amplification – Chapter 7 – Phantoms**

**Disclaimer: I still don't own TBBT or its characters. I just play with them.**

**Note: As per usual, I'd like to send all my love and thanks to my readers; you guys have made my re-entrance into the fanfiction world truly over the top awesome. Like fresh whipped cream on an already perfectly constructed cup of hot cocoa. Seriously, all the love to you and of course, my lovely beta teoriapostmoderna~ -insert lots of hearts-**

**This chapter (and the next one) were originally one, and was around 10k words _before _editing, so it was split, and this is why the update took so long. Sorry for the delay and enjoy some shenanigans. :) **

* * *

Mystified blue eyes stayed glued to the window, a flush cheek hovering as close to the glass as possible without touching. Sheldon could hardly contain the excitement stirring and jumping in his very bones, and it showed with how his hands tapped a jovial melody on his knees. A delightful, toothy grin made its way to Sheldon's face, and his head tilted side to side slightly to the beat of his fingers.

He watched tall, towering buildings pass by his vision, flickers of deep orange light catching on the surfaces from the sun just now peeking over the horizon in the early morning. Random street walkers and small coffee shops flew by in moderate speed as if he were watching a city life documentary through a speedy film reel. Details upon details entered and cemented in his vast mind, etching with ease like a master sculptor creating a statuette, and would remain forever – the ordinary made astonishing simply because he viewed them from this very vantage point.

_Ah_, he did not have a care in the world, not even when he saw his wife – who was sitting next to him – snickering with humor and mimicking his movement as she tried to read her book. He absentmindedly swatted at her leg, wrinkling his nose a tad in playful distaste. She hummed, not removing her eyes from the screen of her electronic reader, and reached a warm hand up to lightly rub his arm. Silly little vixen – Nope, not even his rascal of a wife could disrupt his absolute bliss with her affable banter.

Sheldon Lee Cooper – noted physicist and husband of six months – was on a light rail.

_A train, a train, a train~ _

The two of them were on a one-day trip to Long Beach to visit the Aquarium of the Pacific, which had been a well-planned out date within a very narrow window of availability of which they decided on over two months in advance. They were always busy, thus always just barely missing each others company (as they more often than not went to bed rather early from fatigue) due to recently increasing demands at work.

Sheldon had much more work when Kripke was accepted in a tenured professorial position just before the arrival of the new year, and thus spent more time giving lectures and working with undergrads, while Sheldon himself was able to focus solely on his research and various other projects. In retrospect, he was glad that he didn't get saddled with the position – as it screamed vast public attention, something Sheldon did not care to dally in – but at the same time, he was much busier than before. It also didn't help that Amy was a speaker in a neuroscience seminar two or three times a week over at UCLA between her own projects for a few months as well. It seemed like when one of them was busy, the other wasn't, so their personal time together had severely decreased.

He once heard Howard mention some time ago that married couples actually only spent an average of four minutes alone together after taking work, socializing, recreational activities, and kids into account. The very idea made Sheldon scoff back then, but now that he was living so close to that reality and only because of work, he made quick strides to rectify that notion.

He'd sooner be struck down by a mighty Kraken that emerged from the depths of the Pacific ocean than let Amy and himself fall prey to a common statistic. They always made time for each, from way back in the day when they were still mischievous platonic partners in crime up to now, and that was a paradigm that Sheldon would never change.

So, on the first chance he got, Sheldon proposed a date, of which they would spend a whole day together and simply enjoy some well deserved time without stress. Sheldon was determined to have a day, even if it was just one – in the endless drab of what seemed to be literally work, eat, and sleep – to be with Amy without worrying about finishing a paper here or organizing project details there. Her tired face immediately perked up at the proposal, and mentioned an exhibit down in Long Beach she had been reading about in a magazine. Before he could respond, she added that to make it more fun and leisurely for the both of them, they could take the light rail instead of driving.

No further suggestions were necessary – Sheldon was sold, his excitement unbridled.

When they arrived in Long Beach two very short hours later, Sheldon stepped off the train as if he'd just woken up – stretching and breathing the cool spring air with a wave of refreshment and satisfaction. Amy had stepped off before him and was standing nearby, looking at a brochure.

"It's about half a mile down the road to the exhibit, just down Pine Avenue. We should be able to get there just before opening and have some time before crowds," Amy peered down the road with a hand over her brow to block the light, then turned to look at Sheldon over her shoulder. "You ready?"

He neared her in several long steps, nodding with a small smile, watching as a shine glimmered over her crown when Amy tipped her head back. She tucked the strands of her russet tresses behind an ear and started her trek down the sidewalk, a low hum in her throat.

Sheldon readily followed after her, so very ready to have the day to enjoy.

* * *

Aquariums were a new experience for Sheldon.

He loved the zoo, where there were adorable koalas, mighty felines, and vast varieties of colored birds (which he could now venture within proximity of, so long as it was behind the cages, by the by) to take joy in viewing, but an aquarium seemed to be much more subdued. Aquatic life had much more complex ecosystems for the most part, sure, and some of the biological make up of underwater life was intriguing in a sense, but Sheldon seriously wondered if an aquarium could rouse an equal amount of enjoyment as the zoo.

Then Amy took him to the sea otter habitat.

Flat round noses, a plethora of whiskers that flexed and fanned out like one of those wire light contraptions, and the way they floated in the water with their bellies poking above the surface – while not of the same species, sea otters were practically water koalas – and Sheldon could hardly pull himself away until Amy reminded him that penguins also took resident in this exhibit.

She knew exactly where to take him and what exhibits would be entertaining for the both of them; he followed her almost blindly, eyes taking in everything that passed his vision with awe. They watched the trainers feed the sea otters, climbed into the crawl space provided to see the penguins directly above in a clear glass panel, swimming and waddling, and now they had just finished viewing the various arrays of fish. He literally could not get enough of it all, even if he figured he'd be seeing blue for days after.

The people around him – who had started to gather in large groups closer to the noon hour – were practically glued to the glass as well, watching the colorful tropical fish swim in their large schools, twittering about in dazzling patterns as if dancing in an invisible, wild current. They really were a sight to see, Sheldon agreed; the colors and various shapes held in multitudes and multitudes of sea life were truly remarkable. When he had a brief moment to peek into a centerpiece tank, he too observed the schools of fish flutter about as they swam within aged rock and vibrant coral reefs.

Soon though, he realized that in the midst of him getting caught up in the tank life, Amy had disappeared from his side. Sheldon stepped away from the tropical exhibits and looked around, eyes searching for his stealthy wife. Where had she gone?

"Sheldon!"

Right on cue, Sheldon felt a sudden pressure from behind as a very jubilant and wide eyed Amy Farrah Fowler-Cooper nearly bum-rushed him with fervor. He peered down at her, blue eyes watching with amusement (and a little shock from the sudden blow) as she pointed to their left.

"Shark Lagoon!" she beamed, tugging him like an excited child and leading him to the entrance of the doors that would lead them through a lengthy path of various species of the Selachimorpha that the aquarium housed in their outdoor area. Amy gave another couple tugs on his jacket before traipsing off, adjusting the glasses on her nose and turning back to gesture him to hurry.

Sheldon let out a short chuckle, amused as his wife's exuberance, and followed her in a calm stride, watching as she bounced up and down in place. Honestly, she was such an oddball; he honestly found observing her much more interesting than the fish behind the glass at times like this – when she was carefree and unrestrained from the burdening chains of daily life that seemed to bog her down in the recent months.

Nostalgia – a very appropriate description for the subtle warmth settled in his chest.

Eventually, Sheldon's sights focused on Amy more than the aquatic predators she was dead set on viewing (and petting, the crazy woman). He remembered back when he saw Jaws as a kid and how he had nightmares for weeks and had to force himself in the shower to bathe for just as long. He visibly shuddered as Amy pointed out a particularly large sand tiger shark to him, the rows of needle-like teeth giving his heart a good thundering as it stalked past their viewing spot. Sheldon almost fainted when Amy stuck her hand in one of the three pools to pet an epaulette shark.

Soon enough, Amy realized his discomfort, and blinked innocently at him, "And here I thought you liked sharks, Sheldon?"

"I like hammerheads; they have those tool-like snouts and are visibly fascinating, but I would never want to be in close proximity to one," he edged the tiniest bit closer to Amy as she let her hand hover over the shallow water, eyes shifting around at the various small sharks lingering near her.

"It is too bad they don't have some of the more well known species here; I'd love to see a great white," she cooed, cradling her jaw with her other palm as she remained crouched and relaxed. Sheldon couldn't help but let out a breathy laugh and eye her as if she'd gone insane.

Green eyes peered up at him as he came to stand behind her, Amy's head tapping gently against his shins, "Oh come on, that would be pretty amazing."

"Please pay attention to the water, Amy," he scolding with a weak tone, finger pointing in a wild up-and-down shake. The amused wife at his knees gave him an outlandish grin, but soon returned her gaze to the water to placate him. Sheldon's hands fidgeted, and he scratched a foot against the concrete beneath it.

Then, he felt her softly brush her back against his legs and spoke, voice low, "If you are uncomfortable, we can leave."

"Not necessary, you wanted to come here specifically for the shark exhibit; it would not be fair of me to deny you that experience," he replied, shoving his hands in his pockets. He heard her hum to herself as yet another shark poked its head to the surface under her hand, and watched with an odd sense of focus when her fingers brushed against it. Even if this was a petting area, he still felt uneasy by her nonchalance. What if a passerby startled the animal? What if she were bitten? What if-

"Sheldon, don't worry – these sharks are trained, not to mention friendly by nature," she nudged him with her free arm, smoothing her hand down leg. He raised an eyebrow at her sudden and spot on perception, but remained silent never-the-less, which prompted her to soon add. "I felt you jolt when I touched it again."

_Oh..._

Several moments later, the aquatic distraction swam away, and Amy lifted herself to her feet with a small grunt. She flipped around to face him, raising a hand to his shoulder and offered him a small smile.

"I'm good. Ready to go?"

Sheldon frowned at her, "But you aren't finished."

"We've been in here for over twenty minutes, and unless they've got some of those walloping great whites or hammerheads hiding somewhere, I've seen plenty," she gave him a short pat and maneuvered around him to wander towards the entrance going into the main exhibit. He let out a quiet sigh, eying one of the epaulettes swimming lazily around the edge of the tank before dipping down to hide within a coral shelter.

Sheldon scratched the back of his skull, letting a long and slow breath vibrate through his closed lips.

_Just what is wrong with me?_

He turned to follow Amy back into the aquarium, mind tingling as he worked to gather a plausible reason for his troubling behavior. She was perfectly responsible and capable of handling interactions with a (mostly) harmless aquatic animal, so why was he so unsettled when he observed her doing so? His gut had twisted rather suddenly, and he had resisted the urge to snap her hand out of the water on more than one occasion.

But why?

"Ah!"

As Sheldon entered the darkened establishment, his adjusting eyes caught Amy jumping forward in alarm. Had someone shoved her? He bristled, skin shivering with goosebumps as he strode towards her in a hurry to see her assailant. As Sheldon peered around his wife, Amy herself turned around as well and looked down. He blinked and joined her line of sight, finding a small bundle of pink at their feet, making odd blubbering noises.

The bundle was a child – a blonde-haired girl no older than three or four.

"Oh dear," he heard Amy whisper to herself as she crouched down to assist the crying girl to her feet. With a gentle hand, Amy patted off the girl's clothing and straightened the little pink dress with some cartoon character Sheldon didn't recognize. He took a step back as Amy rested on her heels, giving her some space.

"M-mama," the little thing stuttered, balled hands covering her eyes as she curled over and sobbed uncontrollably. He looked between the hysterical toddler and his silent wife, and that tingling feeling returned with startling force.

"Hey sweetie, where did you last see your parents?" Amy spoke in a soft tone, smoothing the same hand over the girl's head in an attempt to calm her. A tiny, chubby hand pulled away from her face to point towards the gift store at the corner of the lobby, a harsh hiccup bubbling from her pouting lips. Even Sheldon couldn't help feeling sorry for the child, her red, blotchy cheeks and tear-stained face pulled at his heart strings rather easily.

"Should I go look?" he offered, stepping back up to Amy's side. She thought a moment, making small '_shhh' _noises as her thumbs wiped the undersides of the girl's eyes to clear away the tears.

Another tug hit him.

"No, who knows how long she's been wandering about; let's bring her to the information station," she replied finally, Amy's hands reaching under the child's arms to hoist her up off the ground and into warm arms. It seemed that once the girl was settled onto Amy's chest, the noises gradually stopped, and she peered shyly over Amy's shoulder, cheeks puffing against it.

Once more –

"Alright, let's go find your mom and dad, okay?" Amy then adjusted the girl in her arms with a gentle jump, and headed in the direction of the info desk. Sheldon stood unmoving, regarding his wife with unblinking blue eyes, mind roaring with chaotic thoughts. Even after she disappeared from view, he remained rooted to his spot, a heavy breath releasing ever so slowly.

All of his thoughts of the day – breakfast and tea in the morning, the tropical fish in a rainbow of colors, Amy's playful grin, her hand lingering over the shallow water of the shark tank, even the light bouncing off the business buildings from the morning light as he rode the light rail – had become buried under a flurry of new, unknown and somewhat nauseating introspection.

Even when the overhead intercom sparked to life and a loud voice echoed around the lobby – most likely making the missing child announcement – Sheldon was frozen, deaf to the noises and bustle around him.

What, what, _what was this? _

Amy appeared again in the distance, the child – now giggling as Amy poked at her cheeks – still in her arms. She looked around momentarily before catching him in her sights, a confused smile graced her features as she tilted her head to the side. Sheldon's feet unconsciously moved towards the two, zoned in on his wife, the child in her arms, and the peculiar feeling the scene gave him.

Then, just like that, the realization hit him – a jarring epiphany that left him breathless as he came up to Amy's side.

Amy – holding and playing with a child – looked, and felt..._right._

* * *

The following days were rough for Sheldon, to say the least. Work, while reaching its peak in the so called 'busy period', was stressful and ultimately, he got nowhere. His brain, for the first time in a long, long time, was fried – far too overloaded for coherent thought. His mind kept going back to Amy, that girl, his feelings and racing heart.

The notion of having children wasn't an abhorrent one by any means (he and Amy weren't even technically dating when he mentioned procreating the first time, methodical and clinical process or not), but the way it seemed to plow into him like a blunt strike to the head threw him off kilter. To make things worse, his overactive mind kept throwing images of stumbling a little kid around Amy's feet, almost like a phantom creeping up from the ground and clinging to her legs – watching him with wide, innocent eyes. By now, Amy probably thought he'd developed a tick of shaking his head, with the way he always had to rattle the ghost from his vision.

It had taken over, and wasn't going to let go of its hold on him, continuing even a month later.

Sheldon was just coming home from the comic book store, a once regular occurrence with the guys had dwindled down to 'when schedules meshed' for mostly himself and Leonard – something he complained about relentlessly to his short best friend, to Leonard's chagrin. He walked in the door, a paper bag with several graphic novel issues inside, and found Amy relaxing on the center spot of their couch, scanning through a small electronic music device.

She perked her head up as he shut the door, "Hey, you're back early." His mouth scrunched to the side, nodding as he removed his messenger bag and jacket. From the corner of his eye, Sheldon could see it – the phantom.

_Maybe I am going crazy? _He mused to himself as he wandered to his spot and sat down with a huff. He blatantly ignored the pudgy hands crawling over Amy's lap as he set a comic book on her thighs.

"Latest release of Thor, for the lady," he twirled his hand dramatically down to their laps, fingers brushing delicately against her leg. "And I haven't perused it yet, you have the first read."

Amy set her music player down to examine the comic thoroughly, a hint of a smile on her lips.

"Thank you, Sheldon. I'll read it tomorrow after work since it's a short day," she leaned forward to set the book on the coffee table – no, there was _not_ a child rolling off her lap with a giggle, if you must know – and stood up, heading into the kitchen. "Would you like some tea?"

Sheldon nodded curtly, "Yes, tea would be...great." He trailed off and rubbed his eyes. No, the little girl – blonde hair dying chestnut brown like paint was pouring down her scalp – did not just dart into the kitchen, stumbling and catching herself on Amy's calves. When in doubt, and oh he was in doubt, deny deny deny.

_Oh dear lord, please go away. _

Amy eyed him curiously as she set the kettle on the burner with a light _clank, _and flipped the switch on, "You've been acting rather peculiar as of recent; are you alright?"

"Of course, I'm just fatigued. Nothing to anguish over," Sheldon cleared his throat, fingers rubbing over his Adam's apple nervously. He obviously couldn't tell Amy that he was seeing things – little girls who were starting to morph into very familiar green-eyed girls – else she would probably call his mom for the number of that specialist in Houston. He spotted the device on the table and quickly diverted course, "Ah, so you bought an mp3 player? I was unaware."

Amy turned around with a grin, their signature blue and yellow mugs dangling loosely off a finger in each hand, "Oh, I didn't buy that. Howard kept bombarding me with various tunes I wasn't knowledgeable about during out last karaoke event, so he gave me a spare he no longer utilizes. He filled it with random songs to get me 'acquainted' with the more popular songs of today," her nose scrunched a tad. "I was listening to Eminem earlier. I can't say I'm a fan, but some of his lyrics are rather deep and thought provoking, though vulgar."

"Eminem? Those candy men from the commercials are inspirational music artists?"  
"No, the rapper."  
"They use wrappers to sing?"

Amy covered her nose as if she were going to sneeze and her shoulder shook ever so slightly, "No, no, no. Ah, I'll just show you later-"

Sheldon already had put an earbud into his ear, and clicked play on the miniature player, only to hit pause several seconds later and stare with wide eyes at his wife, "How on earth is lighting a fire one's hindquarters 'thought provoking'?"

Not even containing her laughter as she poured the boiling water into their mugs, Amy looked up at him with raised brows and a tight smile, "Not the song I was referring to mind you, but some of his songs do mention the state of the government, difficulties of relationships, love, and the dark sides of humanity. It does get one's mind rolling, at the very least."

"I can't imagine his vulgar language as inspirational, but I'll just drop it under your...whimsical tastes," Sheldon glanced down to the floor. "Plus, music like that is definitely not suitable for youn-" He promptly froze, blue eyes locked onto green ones that were not Amy's, and shut his mouth.

Not suitable for younger minds – was what he was about to say. As Amy set his mug of tea down on the coaster in front of him, Sheldon gave her a tight nod before burying his vision into the small, bright screen of the player, scanning different songs to distract his train of thought.

He blinked suddenly, "You have Lord of the Rings music on here?"

"Yep, I really like it. Very mythical and exciting."

"Hm," he pressed play and listened quietly. A velvet-like hymn starting to chime in his ears, the voice of a single woman washing over him in a gentle lullaby. He immediately recognized the piece. "The song when Aragorn and Arwin are together."

"Ah, yes, Evenstar. I love that song," Amy agreed, her hands smoothing over her legs. "The lyrics are in Sindarin, one of the Elvin languages from the movie. 'This is not the end; It is the beginning. You cannot falter now. If you trust nothing else – trust this. Trust love."

Sheldon's head tipped to the side, looking at her softly, "I didn't think you liked the movies."

"Oh yes, those I enjoyed," she nodded happily, then went silent. The orchestral tune still hummed quietly in his ear, his mind relaxing in the calming melody. His blue irises lifted and peered through his lashes to the floor clearing between the table and the island counter in the kitchen, the phantom girl twirled in a slow circle, arms outstretched as if she were about to embrace somebody. Then, just as the track ended on the mp3 player, she stopped and turned to him, inclining her head sideways – watching him.

Sheldon stood up, nodding to what was now nothing in the middle of the room.

_I got it. _

He turned to Amy, offering his hand, "Come here."

She blinked slowly, her hand drifting up naturally to slid into his open palm, her body lifting up to stand. Sheldon let her around the table, pulling her with one hand and clutching the player with the other, until they were lingering in the middle of the room – facing each other.

Amy glanced down a moment, then back up with questioning eyes, "What are we doing?"

Sheldon released her hand to hold up an index finger, hushing her, and then pulled the free ear bud dangling at his chest and handed to his confused wife. Hesitantly, Amy took the piece and put it in the ear parallel to his own. He placed a hand on her belly, ghosting over the flat span of it as he moved to it to her hip and let it rest firmly there.

He let his other hand drift down her right arm, fingers relishing in the warmth of her bare forearm (she was only in her blouse and undershirt) and tightened on her wrist, guiding her hand up to his shoulder, "We're dancing."

"...we are?"  
"Yes, we never did when we were married. It would be rather ungentlemanly of me to not make this up for this blunder of traditions to my wife."

"...okay," she smiled, a faint hue of rose painted over her cheeks as she stepped just a tad closer to him.

They stood silent as Sheldon clicked expertly through the device, and once where he wanted it, he clicked play and shoved the player in his pocket. He heard Amy's breathy sigh as the transcendent hymn whispered into the ear pieces in their individual ears – their senses became enveloped in a calm, motionless peace as the Elvin lyrics flowed.

A few moments later, Sheldon lead her in a gentle sway with his hands on her waist, peering at her through thick lashes. If Sheldon didn't know any better, he would have thought Amy was about to fall asleep with the way her head lulled and eyes fluttered shut, but he knew otherwise. She was relaxed, and was immersed in their moment, enjoying their contact – their dance. The hymn continued, ethereal and light, woodwind instruments and soft voices weaved an enchanting song that soothed them.

While his brain was no longer abuzz with the images of a little green-eyed girl playing about the apartment and around Amy, Sheldon did feel the remnants of her impact – her reason for being. He didn't allow himself to think about the how, the when, where or why; Sheldon was going to just lay it out, words bare and forthright.

When he really thought about it, maybe his mind truly wasn't a jumbled mess, but a calculating entity of its own volition, letting the epiphany at the aquarium naturally grow and come to life within his raw senses. That small child was a indeed a phantom – a representation of inner thoughts that he slowly became ready to handle at this very moment in time. His brain was giving itself – guiding Sheldon – ample time to catch up with his flourishing heart.

As the song came to a close, Sheldon glanced down between them and swore he saw two, tiny orbs of green, but it was gone just as quickly as it came – the song too, had ended.

"Amy?" he instantly inquired, fingers tightening and thumbs brushing along the edges of her abdomen. Still entranced, she only hummed a tiny - "Hm?" - before letting her tender eyes open.

"Have you ever desired children?"

Her body stilled, and a gaze laced with surprise rose to meet his solemn stare.

* * *

**End Note: Yup, I'm going there.**

**I know the concept of Shamy babies is a widely controversial topic; a lot of varied opinions. I personally am a either/or – depending on circumstances kind of person. In my stories world, it will be touched. Of course, you'll see how it turns out next chapter, as I already have it written, it just needs to go through a huge editing process for accuracy and details. It should be up within a few days. :) **

**Let me know what you think with a comment, and see you next time! **


	8. Tribulations

**The Emotion Amplification – Chapter 8 – Tribulations**

**Disclaimer: See all other chapters.**

**Note: This chapter was originally with the last chapter as one huge blob, but I cut it because who wants to read 12k+ words in one chapter? (and that was before editing!) Haha. Once again, thank you to my lovely beta/bestie for looking this over (three separate times) and giving me some suggestions. :) And of course to all of you readers who continue to read and support this growing story of mine! **

**This chapter contains some (darker) mature themes, and smut. Please enjoy~**

* * *

Her awe-struck eyes watched him for a moment, face construed in a look that clearly suggested that her thoughts were wrapping themselves around his inquiry, her fingers tightening on Sheldon's shoulders. There wasn't a thread of doubt in Sheldon's mind that she was not expecting this from him, and that notion only solidified more and more as Amy slowly lulled her head down, shyness taking over her features.

He supposed he did muse over these moments more than he should, crossing back and forth over a line that was the choice to open his mouth or stay silent, a constant battle within himself that always eventually pushed him to move forward with Amy. Even now, swarming around Sheldon were the drifting thoughts of many probabilities in the few seconds of silence that followed – a fog of endless scenarios percolating from his very pores and forming cold beads of sweat that collected at his brow – and Sheldon shoved them as far down into the pit of his gut as possible.

"You've...thought about having children, Sheldon?"

Her eyes lowered, aimed between their still feet, and he briefly wondered if maybe that little child had appeared before Amy as well. He glanced down to verify, then shook his head of the mere idea. There would be no more phantom girl; there was no need for her to appear any longer.

He had crossed that barrier once again; he would see it through.

Sheldon let out a hush breath, "Yes. I believe that if we were to delve into that particular facet of family life, it would be better to bring the topic up early."

"Early?"

"Yes, we have been married just shy of eight months, and there is a lot to prepare for before we'd conceive. Screenings, planning, saving of funds, potential alternative living – the whole nine yards, so to speak. "

"Oh. Um," Amy stepped back a bit, touching a finger to her temple and tipping her head against it. "You've...thought about this a lot, it seems."

_More than I would like to admit. _He rubbed his palms up her sides gently before releasing her and heading back to the couch, gesturing her to accompany him with the twist of a hand.

"I have thought about it," he patted the spot next to him on the couch – Amy's spot. "If you are receptive to the idea, I think it would be most beneficial if we talk about some preemptive procedures and factors."

She joined him, though an air of quietness came with her as well. He watched her remove her glasses and rubs her eyes with the pads of her fingers, then swipe down her face.

"Alright, but out of curiosity – Where did this idea come from? I'm surprised you are the one bringing this up. I honestly thought it would be me breaching this particular topic."

_Oh dear. _Sheldon blanched, regarding his wife with a look that he tried to pass off as confusion. He was certain that he instead looked like there was a large monster rearing its claws behind her – his eyes wide at a random space in the background. Should he tell her? There were many weird 'quirks' of sorts that Amy didn't even blink an eye at – and he loved that about her – but little girls dancing around was extremely unlike something he'd ever experienced. It was almost too surreal to Sheldon himself, so it was likely to play out that way in her mind as well.

"Sheldon?"

"Um..." his eyes shifted between her and the wall over her shoulder. Suspicion was abound in Amy's gaze; a brow raised high above her frames and her mouth scrunched to the side ever so slightly.

Very quickly, Sheldon cracked under her scrutiny.

The next resulting five minutes had him blabbering in a string of choppy nonsense – a very unsuccessful summary of the events that had come to pass within the last few weeks. His chest that felt tight, his mind spinning with images of a child that originally was the same girl from the aquarium, but had warped in size, shape, and appearance as the days passed as if she'd been painted over completely by an unsatisfied artist. A little toddler, pudgy and plush with life, eyes a very vibrant green and hair a darker brown, dancing about and clinging to his wife any moment his brain processed her arrival. Sheldon knew it sounded absolutely preposterous and dallied in the idea of calling his mother for that reference after he finished his explanation.

He could see Amy trying to postulate his words, and figured the questioning of his sanity would arrive sooner than later – he was pretty much talking about hallucinations. Instead, she nodded to herself, clearly confirming something to her inner mind.

She smiled at him, "Your mind works in truly riveting ways, I must admit."

"You don't think I'm crazy?"

Amy chuckled warmly, placing a hand tenderly on his knee, "No more than anyone else that tries to imagine what it'd be like to have a child in their life. Your mind simply works uniquely and that little girl was a catalyst of sorts that played off the receptors in your brain."

"Ah." The way Amy put it made a lot of sense, though Sheldon was just relieved that she hadn't pondered sending him to a loony bin.

"I've always wanted a family," she murmured, almost inaudible. "I can't even count how many times I've wanted to bring up the topic, but I could never really find the words – or the courage."

"Did you think I'd be opposed?"

"That thought did cross my mind more often than not."

"I see."

Well, at least it was out in the open now, the little bouncy tweepadok called children, he affirmed to himself.

Sheldon pondered on his own for a moment, processing the little bits of information from Amy's confession and body language – hands clamped in her lap and lip between her teeth – and mused that there was more to it than what she revealed. In all honestly, he wondered why she would assume that he'd be repellant to the idea of offspring between such brilliant people as themselves.

Sheldon remembered a fragmented memory of the time back in the day where they had come close to birthing an offspring via artificial insemination, so it shouldn't have been extremely outlandish – the idea at hand.

He mentioned it to her, breaking the thickly blanketed silence, but Amy quietly countered that as much as she loved science, along with the meticulous and intriguing process behind in vitro fertilization, she meant a natural conception.

Biting his lip, Sheldon agreed that it was also his intention, and smoothed a hand down her spine – pulling her into him with a soft tug. He understood; the past had been just fellow scientists compiling data and speculating over the forming of an advanced life – an experiment in its most vulgar form. This was so much more than that, not even remotely comparable to back then; this was building a family between two people who despite lives of isolation and loneliness, had miraculously ended up together against the many hurdles set before them.

Another lapse of silence had leveled the room, but Amy soon broke it, "I do not have a large window of opportunity for pregnancy; fertility starts to rapidly drop in woman over the age of thirty-five, and even more so for woman over forty."

"Then, we'll have to make a decision sooner than later, after weighing the pros and cons of conception," came his immediate reply. Her face – buried deep into his chest – nodded solemnly in agreement.

"You're sure?"

"Beyond a doubt."

"...okay."

He felt her movement below, a smile pressing warmly into his collar, and Sheldon couldn't help but hold her tighter.

Ultimately, they decided to try after a couple more days of weighing the odds. Sheldon displayed a fervent enthusiasm to encourage her, but they both agreed to let a couple of months (three to be exact) pass; work was hectic and neither of their schedules matched up on a regular basis, which was necessary in trying to conceive. Some preëmptive screenings – fertility tests along with an in-depth check up for health – were also agreed upon to ensure that there would be no potential and unforeseen issues that could hinder the newest future addition to their family.

Amy also wanted a sufficient amount of time to prepare her body – a head start on prenatal vitamins to get adequate amounts of folic acid (very important for older women aiming for pregnancy), changes in some unhealthy eating habits that would later be detrimental to an infant's health, and to figure out her ovulation date. She was on birth control simply to temper and control her irregular menstruation, so she'd need to test to find the optimum time for them to copulate by testing her luteinizing hormone via ovulation kit.

Sheldon had to applaud the seriousness she had taken upon their agreement for bring a child into their world, but there was a lingering – barely there – feeling of uneasiness that danced around his feet for some reason. Any time he tried to place a finger on the cause of tingling in his toes, the feeling would dissipate and eventually, his mind would occupy itself elsewhere – on his jubilant wife.

In the end, he chalked it up to simply nerves at this delicate process, as the end of the three months they decided to wait arrived quick like a speeding projectile. Nervousness was sounding more and more likely, as even Amy had an air of jitters amidst her. Then, eighty-six days after she had halted her birth control – at the three and a half month mark – they dropped their hearts into the chaotic fray and let go.

At the recommendation of many online research articles, they eased into making love every other day, which wasn't all that difficult – they were rather regular in their scheduled (and non-scheduled) bedroom activities as it was – and when Amy's test detected a surge in her hormones, they devoured each other three days straight. It was a cathartic experience; being able to hold her, over and over, feeling her natural warmth without barrier and relishing in the sweet breeze of her scent as it enveloped him when she clung breathlessly to him. It was very near an all-consuming experience, even the smallest things revved him up and there were moments that they could barely make it to the bedroom, demonstrated by the fact that Sheldon took her right against the door on three different occasions.

Thinking about Amy made him crave her touches; touching her made him want to consume her, and every act of copulation engraved into his endless memory, haunting him everywhere he went – a deliciously vicious cycle that would put his fabled fabricated stories of the past to shame.

Amy was a creative little vixen as well; she did not relent on her desirable wiles. Sheldon found it utterly humorous that 'frequent and whimsically inventive' was his wife's own forte, and when she would crawl upon their bed in a sleeping tee (of which she now wore in the summertime and the warm part of autumn), letting the fabric slip over her rear and bundle on her back – shaking those perfectly curved hips – Sheldon found it absolutely irresistible, his hands would fall upon her skin instantly.

Possibly his favorite part of all, was looking in her eyes; they were the most fascinating shade of green, with the speckles of gold that seems to flare up brightly like a nova whenever she experienced intense emotions and sensations. Pressing his forehead against hers, watching the gold dance within the pools of emerald, Sheldon would never get enough. Amy's eyes – as ridiculous and maudlin as it sounded – were an open window that allowed him to really see inside her, revealing the things she didn't speak, yet didn't need to. Speaking silently through their eye-contact, they were able to truly be close, ever since they first were together.

Countless days, week after week, they intoxicated themselves on each other and didn't let the arrival of her next cycle forty-three days into their dalliances deter them. Or the next – thirty seven days after the last. These things can take time, she'd assure him; everything would come to fruition, he'd reply back to her and they'd try again with determination.

Soon though, Sheldon started to see the signs, becoming more and more obvious as time continued to pass. That dull tinge of something unknown returned, and the reasoning for it hit him hard – colliding like a raging meteorite on a crash course to earth.

The light of her eyes that he drowned in willingly – once beautiful, enchanting and bright – was lifeless.

He watched helplessly as the picture of a family slowly blurred and melted away through his fingertips.

* * *

Amy was stressed.

This wasn't a good stress, the kind you feel before getting married or when you are so excited that your stomach flips constantly in anxiety when you wait for the results of an experiment to finish computing. This was nerve-wrecking, health deteriorating, frightening stress, and for the first time in a long time, Sheldon was shaken. Amy felt extremely driven, that much he was certain, but the months of no results to speak of were taxing on her emotions to such a degree that many times he wanted to suggest a break from their efforts. It wasn't healthy, that almost forced momentum in her body as she strained and hurt herself inside, any remnant of the light in her eyes – the mirth and excitement of having a baby of their own – was slowly replaced with self-loathing and emptiness.

Sheldon didn't know what to do; he tried to reassure her, pregnancy wasn't always an instant process – they both were well aware of this reality. Some women simply didn't conceive as quickly as others, and they already knew that it would potentially be longer given her age. There were couples who tried for years, he explained to her, his own mother didn't have George Jr. until over a year and a half of attempts, and he and his sister mere months after trying again. It simply couldn't be calculated, it couldn't be perfectly planned; they could only prepare for optimum results and continue trying. He truly hoped that such reassurances would be the calm salve on the painful burns of their unsuccessful endeavors, especially when someone as precise and plan-obsessed as Sheldon himself was the one relaying this to her.

It didn't help, it only made her that much more cracked on the inside – she clearly blamed herself and the virus that was uncertainty and fear spread through to him as well, pooling at his feet and eventually drowning him when it all came to a head around the nine month mark of their efforts.

On a cloudy and abnormally cool day in April, Amy seemed to have a spark re-lit in her eyes, gold specks with the green – dazzling and gentle – and Sheldon felt the warmth radiate as she pulled him to her, kissing along his jaw in a peppering of wet, open-mouthed ministrations. Her breathy moans as she craned her neck back echoed in his ears, fueling him as he pistoned within her with careful thrusts. Her thighs – and wet heat – deliciously tightened around him when she came undone, breasts cresting high as her chest rose from the bed in the midst of her release. Soon after, Sheldon too came in a jolt of molten white, spilling deep within her in several final pumps and pressed his forehead down against her collar.

He continued to touch her bare skin – stroking up her ankle, softly scraping his nails along her thighs, naturally massaging over her tummy and up to her collar. Touching Amy, even in the afterglow, was one of Sheldon's particular habits that only seemed to grow in intensity. Soon enough, he let his blue gaze fall upon her face.

They laid in bed together, spent from love-making, their hard breathing was the only noise in the room for several moments. Then, almost as if possessed by an entirely different entity, Amy raised her hands to cup his face and raised it to press a soft – barely even felt – kiss to his lips.

"I love you," she breathed slowly, voice low and so, _so_ painful. Something was terribly wrong; he swallowed hard as she uttered her next words. "I am sorry, so sorry."

Sheldon felt like he was suddenly choked of breath, blue eyes wide and staring at her with a sickening knot in his stomach. His mind was on fire, and could no longer pinpoint the sensations in his fingers as he touched her shoulder. Why was she apologizing? He could feel his bottom lip quiver and any attempt for words stayed lodged deep in his throat.

He moved back, resting on his legs, "W-what?"

"This- I...no matter how hard we've tried, it's not working," she sat up as well, nestling the blanket over her paler than normal body, fingers shaking and curling so tightly that they whitened from her grip. "It's not working. I'm-"  
"Don't, Amy. We've talked about this-"  
"And _still_ nothing has happened; I'm still not a mother and you aren't a father. Doctors at the clinic won't be able to help me – I'm simply...too old."  
"Amy-" _Stop, please.  
_"I can tell this frustrates you too, and it hurts. I wanted to be able to give _you_ something for once, in return for all that you've given me."

Sheldon reached out for her, "That's not even remotely-"

"I can't give you a family."

The words spilled from her mouth just as his fingers brushed against her, and they instantly recoiled as if painfully shocked. His mouth opened and closed, the words coming to his tongue but wouldn't exit his lips as if held back by an inflexible steel wire. Amy's head cradled deep into her knees, her arms wrapped around her body – she was closing up, berating herself. Sheldon could feel his shoulders shake, her claims digging harshly within his skin and creating a darkened vortex that bubbled uncontrollably under the surface.

At that moment, Sheldon was truly afraid – Amy had given up on herself. Then, split seconds later, his fear turned into disbelief, then palpable ire.

_...Unacceptable._

She was _wrong. _

"How could you..." he mumbled, eyes foggy and unfocused. "How could you even say that?!"

His sharp spike in tone yanked Amy's head from hiding, green eyes wide in shock at his outburst. Sheldon had risen from the bed, not caring whether he was naked nor that he was shaking from head to toe. Pain, fear, nausea, anger, complete and utter disbelief – surging emotions and feelings that had been building since the light disappeared from his wife. He had never felt so tempered, so capable of breaking out of his perfect control and Sheldon was about to just let it all fall in brittle pieces on the floor.

This...this, he could _not_ ignore.

"Frustrated? Of course I am, Amy, I'm frustrated that I can't take a single... _point _of my IQ to come up with any amalgamation of words to soothe you. You pile all these ridiculous expectations upon yourself, as if you _owe _me something!" Sheldon lurched forward, hands burying his face for a few seconds before falling helplessly to his sides. "I mean, let's be honest, Amy. I wouldn't even _be_ at this point, wanting a family – or anything for that matter – if it weren't for you waltzing so effortlessly into my life and throwing me so gloriously under the tide. You think you haven't done anything? You think that you have to give me something?"

"Sheldon, I-"

"You have given me _everything, _Amy. There is nothing more that I could ask of you; a child is not something I simply expect you to give me. You aren't a thing to cater to my wants and needs – You are my friend, my wife, the person who invaded my world and toppled every aspect of my life on its side. You breathed something frighteningly new into my senses, something so outrageously refreshing that it _still _blows my mind."

Amy's shoulders shook, lip quivering as she struggled to form words – they never came, and Sheldon wouldn't let them.

"It doesn't make a lick a difference if children aren't in our future."

"Doesn't it?!" Amy had found her voice, and it was frantic. "Is that not what we'll be thinking about when we sit together on the couch, or when we go shopping, or laze about in bed? The child that could have been there, it'll haunt us! It already had its hold on you so long ago; how could you not want-"

"_I want you, Amy!_" his voice was just as alarmed, voice hoarse with dryness, but loud with hurt. "There is no 'what if'. It's you! You are enough, you are all the family I need – How can I make you understand that it's only ever been you!? The girl, she was always near you, playing with you, dancing around you. She may have been there, planting the seed of desiring children, but it only existed because it was with _you!_"

The words would no longer come out; Sheldon collapsed to his knees, uncaring of the brash force of the carpet scrapping at his skin, or the quivering of his hands. He never expected, never dreamed of their lives taking such a drastically horrid turn. He almost regretted bring up the idea, now that the bright dreams – a family of three, splendidly comfortable and happy – were quickly disappearing over the blackened horizon.

Vaguely, he felt the soft padding of Amy's feet touching the floor and walking the couple of steps up to his hunched over form. She fell to him soon after, shaking arms wrapped around his head as she pulled him to her trembling body. Amy was clearly crying, droplets fell helplessly to his skin, pelting him with warm tears and yet they felt so cold. His own arms snaked around her waist and with a mind so empty, void of any coherent thought, Sheldon wordlessly pulled his sobbing wife to him.

Later, when he was showering, Sheldon stood against the back wall of the tub in a near state of hyperventilation, with hands clamped harshly over his mouth. The breaths forced out through his nose and sometimes through his teeth were painful, his eyes and nose stung like needles were prickling at them – it wasn't from water or soap.

* * *

Amy had left for work (he had the day off today) early the next morning after spending an abnormal amount of time in the bathroom, and an even more abnormally quiet few minutes drinking a cup of tea – the signs of crying and lack of appetite had Sheldon worried, but he did not question her. He had even been hesitant to kiss her goodbye, the harsh feelings of guilt and hurt from their fight the night before still loomed darkly over his shoulder. She seemed well enough, as she gave him a small smile and pressed that peck to his lips before exiting the apartment, but Sheldon knew better.

They weren't okay; they were both hurting and could do nothing about it.

Sheldon spent the entire day in a daze and eventually – a good portion into the evening hours – he let himself fall weightlessly on to the couch, halfway between each of their spots, right on the crack between the cushions. Sighing, he tilted his head back and stared endlessly at the drab ceiling, randomly counting the hairline cracks. Sheldon attempted – and failed – to eradicate the negative thoughts eating at him from the inside out. Were they going to be okay after this? Was there nothing he could do to end her suffering or ease her of the blame that had no right being there in the first place? He bit his lip, wishing that something would give him a clue – anything – that would guide him along in this new and deleterious path that had been placed before him.

There were no voices, no little phantoms, nothing at all.

Being alone in the apartment did not help either – Sheldon felt like something was incredibly off and he couldn't stop thinking.  
He needed to leave for a bit, go anywhere that would take his thoughts away from their ugly fight and emotion outcries. Claustrophobia was starting to consume him; even in the large space of the living room, Sheldon felt like there was no air to even breathe.

Breathe...clear his mind...

He swung himself up to his feet and briskly headed for the door, snatching his jacket and keys before walking out of the stuffy, offending apartment that threatened to swallow his helpless heart whole. Just as he finished clicking the lock to secure his home, a light, female voice greeted him from his left – his across the hall neighbor Kat, and her young son. Holding back a flinch, Sheldon nodded curtly to the redhead and muttered a quick 'Hello.' before retreating up the stairs. He briefly wondered if Amy had run into them earlier in the morning, and if she had felt the same pang in her chest that hit him the instant his eyes fell upon Kat's child.

A hand rubbing absent-mindedly on his chest, Sheldon journeyed up the many stairs, mumbling the periodic table of elements to distract himself. After three different attempts at matching the steps to the words – he was that out of it – he ended up at the rooftop door. He twisted the knob and let the wave of cool, spring air wash over his exhausted and tense skin, almost relishing in the tingle that jolted from head to toe. He ruffled the sleeve of his jacket and watched the air from his deep sigh condensate, floating away in a puff of vapor.

The dim glow of the light fixture attached to the wall near the door glimmered gently, casting shadows out on the cement flooring and stretching forth towards the ends of the roof where they stopped abruptly, seemingly spilling off the edge of the roof. Blue eyes rose up and caught the breathtaking view of the evening sunset. Flourishing burnt oranges, deep violets, and bright rose hues merged and swept across the horizon, just above a large, almost red sun that barely peeked in the distance. With the wisps of fluffy clouds, the scene really looked like a painting that one would see in a gallery. Every aspect – the sky, the clouds, even the color-kissed trees below – reminded him of Amy.

The few times they had come up here for one reason or another, she always regarded the scenery with a sense of bliss, warm voice explaining the way her brilliant and vibrant mind took in the imagery with a scientific touch. He was never one to care much about how "pretty" something was, but the way Amy explained wavelengths and color perception in the brain dazzled him. He also vaguely recalled a time when he expressed extreme displeasure with her standing so close to the edge of the roof.

_"There are no fences or walls up here – that's why I don't come up here," _he'd say while trying to coax her back to him._  
"There is only the ground and the sky up here. If you think of it that way, it's not so bad, you know?" _her reply had left him silent and awe-struck. Like the flip of a switch, his anxiety vanished and his phobia of heights was gone – even if only there, with her, on the roof.

Why was it that Amy was able to make his life better, easier to navigate and more comfortable in all its essence?

The better question was why couldn't he do the same for her?

Standing at the edge of what seemed like eternity – the knowledge of being so close to falling ignored and replaced with the feeling of being light and enveloped in the painting in front of him – Sheldon thought hard. _What should I do? What can I do for Amy? _If only there was something, someone to give him that nudge that he desperately needed. Blinking, he paused in his torrent thoughts, suddenly coming to a realization.

There was someone he could go to.

Racing back down the stairs, two at a time and practically plowing into his apartment, Sheldon finally called the only person he could rely on to take his worries as top priority and give him structured and aiding advice.

The most reliable person there was – Sheldon called his Meemaw.

She listened to his whole story, silently until he finished, never questioning him or displaying judgment. The line was quiet when he finished with a broken sigh, his free hand rubbed his tightly closed eyes and Sheldon muttered helplessly, "What do I do? What _can _I do for her, Meemaw?"

After what felt like an eternity, his grandmother's calm voice spoke, "Moonpie, do you know the common vows traditional couples exchange when they get married?"

Sheldon frowned a tad, "Of course, Leonard and Penny did such when they got married, as did Howard and Bernadette, but what-" He stopped, thinking hard.

Sensing his realization, her low voice continued, "Those vows apply regardless if you word them or not... Do you love your wife, Sheldon?"

The use of his name caused him to jolt on the spot, "Of course I love Amy." There was no hesitation.

"Then, you _show_ her. Show that wonderful child that she'll be loved until you both take your last breaths, no matter what happens."

* * *

Sheldon waited in the darkness of the living room; it was well past the evening and the night had already arrived, along with a glimmering half-moon to shine in the back window. His ears were throbbing, straining to listen for her soft taps up the apartment stairs, and jumped when they finally came. His senses abruptly set aflame, he stood up and headed down the hall, into the darkness to wait for her.

He could hear Amy shuffling quietly into the apartment – her keys jingling, the plop of her shoes against the wood flooring as she removed them from her tired feet, a noisy sigh passing subtly through her lips. Sheldon could occasionally see the glow from the moon outside pass over her as she put her bulky purse down to the ground.

Sheldon shivered, even that small glimpse had sent his heart into a pounding tizzy. Oh, lord, mere hours of separation had him rendered a mess, and he couldn't breathe.

The darkness, the silence, the still air around him, all of it allowed him to focus on the woman slowly approaching him unknowingly, drawing so near that all the images in his head were of her – the glowing green of her eyes, the sound of her low voice, her scent. There was a slight buzzing noise that rang softly in his ears, but Sheldon ignored it. Ignored everything, except for her.

He took a wide step into view, "Amy."

Amy promptly halted dead in her tracks when her eyes rose to meet his stare, her head pulling back from alarm at his sudden presence. She lingered in her spot, frozen and confused; the moonlight barely caught her left side, highlighting the curve of her hip that partially peeked out from the end of her lavender jacket. Keeping her nailed in place with his blue gaze, Sheldon approached her lazily, feet sweeping across the floor in languid steps – very much like a prowling creature – until he stopped just short of her person.

They were quiet as they stood inches apart, neither of them able to close the space; they just regarded each other with an eerie calm. Sheldon watched her mouth drop open, lips twitching with the urge to speak.

_Please, talk to me. _He wanted to hear the voice that had been absent from his mind.

"I missed you."

Her simple sentence washed over him like a torrid wave of liquid emotion; his body shivered from both relief and happiness. The timidness in her words prompted a smile to his face, and he couldn't resist the urge to wrap himself around her completely. He kissed her, pouring his reply into her as he held her close, and put everything into the hopes that she'd understand.

_I missed you so much that I'm a complete mess. _

Her third sigh told him Amy did.

"Amy," he purred against her lips, voice much lower than normal, head tilted to the side as he watched her. The loosely draped arms around her waist twitched, raising up to hover on either side of her face.

Curled knuckles grazed her cheeks, then unfurled to let long fingers ghost along the slopes of her neck until they nestled under the collar of her jacket. In absolutely no hurry, Sheldon peeled the article from her; the pads of his fingers stroked over her clavicle and down her clothed arms, leaving trails of goose-flesh in their wake. Amy, motionless and mesmerized, let the piece fall in a heap to the floor, eyes glued to the husband whose gaze penetrated her and pursed mouth lured a dormant tingling down to her tummy – blazing and shudder inducing. The sight of her visible shiver prompted Sheldon's mouth to split into a subtle grin.

Sheldon leaned forward, capturing her in a sultry kiss, his teeth dragging briefly over her bottom lip, and then he backed away several steps. A hand rose – palm up and index finger extended – and beckoned her with two slow curls towards his retreating form as it disappeared back into the abyss. By the time Sheldon reached their room, Amy was right behind him, following his to lead into their bedroom, though she needed little prompting. She stopped in the space between the entrance and the bed as Sheldon shut the door; his vision remained on her small form even as he confirmed the click of the door.

Before long, he was behind her, hands resting on her shoulders as he mapped a route along her visage. Sheldon was going to take his time, lavish every single inch of her unsuspecting skin and infuse it with all that he was, down to the most miniscule of atoms. With a sweep of his hand, Sheldon caressed the locks of her hair cascading down her back away from her neck and over her shoulder, viewing her now open neck and the curve of her jaw.

He curled around her, arm nestling over her ribs and palm pressed hard between her breasts as he pulled her to him, mouth hot against the nape of her neck. Sheldon heard a breath catch in Amy's throat as he dragged his lips along the vertical span of skin, pecking every so often as they traveled patiently over to the inward slope and up to where her jaw met her ear, where he pressed into the sensitive flesh there. Every shiver elicited from his wife urged him on, touches moving over her body and seeking the skin beneath her clothing.

Working at her neck, leaving bruising kisses and tongue trailing where it could reach, he utilized his free hands – Amy was leaning heavily against him at this point – to undress her. Her blouse, her long red skirt, her tights – he expertly peeled her clothing away one by one, finishing with her brassière from under her last remaining shirt – he left Amy only in her tee and panties, standing in a pool of clothing at her feet. His mouth never left her, always painting dotted lines anywhere and everywhere, marking her endlessly.

"Do you know what you do to me?" he murmured against her neck, relishing in the feeling of her quivering body.

Sheldon heard the hum in her voice, as if she were about to speak through all the sighs and breaths that escaped, and he fastened his grip over her ribs with a large hand. He knew what she was about to say – the same words she always whispered ever since her heart gave up on the conception of progeny – and his body shook with the desperation to silence the phrase.

It wasn't about procreation; this wasn't what this was. It wasn't, and he wanted – _needed_ – to show her that. He simply wanted to love her, as that is what this always was for him, from the very first time they joined completely.

Words wouldn't placate her this time, they didn't reassure her, ease her broken heart and they most certainly didn't revive the spark in her eyes – the most haunting point of all. Her green irises were a window that were always open to him, speaking thoughts that she rarely couldn't articulate, and it had long since closed. They had lost that connection in their desperate battle to birth a new life, the very first connection they had established outside their compatible minds.

Sheldon couldn't bear to lose that after the years of fighting to finally be receptive to it.

He refused.

With a deep, shaky breath, Sheldon coaxed a gasp from Amy's lips as he nibbled on the skin of her jaw, then slipped his fingers beneath the seam of her panties to bury into the wet folds of her womanhood. Instantly, her shoulders arched back into him, a soundless cry left her as wobbly knees buckled from beneath her. Sheldon tightened his grip around her, holding the trembling woman fast against him to retain balance and swiped a finger over her swollen bud.

Amy sucked in a sharp breath, the sound of a hiss as the air filled her lungs and she curled into his touch, each stroke jolted her hard as if she were being electrocuted in vivid pulses. Sheldon ignored the tight pressure of her nails digging into his clothed thighs, clasping like a lifeline and pillar of support, and continued to tease her nub and feverishly kiss her shoulder and use the slight flexibility of his other hand to brush over a nipple.

She was practically hunched over, hair spilling over the one shoulder and fanning like a wind-touched curtain as she jerked and panted, her overflowing arousal spilling on to his fingers and emitting such a bewitching fragrance that Sheldon had to resist the overwhelming desire building helplessly within him.

He groaned in unison with Amy as he suddenly dipped two fingers into the depths of liquid heat, pumping recklessly into her while his thumb continued where his finger left off. Her next cry was loud and unbridled, her head popped back with a thud on his collarbone, mouth open and eyes lulled in ecstasy. Sheldon urged her on, touching her, filling her, melting her body as if it were a candle engulfed in an unrestrained flame, sweat collected and trickling like drops of wax.

The strain in his pants tightened as her moans increased and Amy's rear pressed insistently into his erection; Sheldon had to pause in his kisses to bite hard on his lip. Even unconsciously, she was working his body into a fever that was sublimely calling him out. He had to move them to the bed, otherwise they were both going to end right there in the middle of the room.

Removing his hand, gleaming with a subtle glimmer as it passed a beam of light from the window, Sheldon nudged Amy around, yanking her shirt up over her head to discard to the floor and finally locking his mouth upon hers. Using the momentum to guide her, he walked her backwards until she buckled at the edge and toppled upon the mattress. Her calves still dangled off the end, which only made it easier for Sheldon to reach over and hook his thumbs under her underwear and pull them off in a swift motion, leaving her rosy, wet core open and chilled by the cool air around them. Even the slightest touch – his hand tapping gently on a knee to signal her to move back just a little – made her body quake with need.

Even Sheldon was panting, the stifling heat made him have to strip down himself to his briefs, but no further. He would not allow himself to succumb to desire, not yet. His brain was already multitasking in a flurry – racing through random statistics to keep his want at bay, then where to touch Amy, where to please her – a constant spiral that spun him on his toes. His focus was so intense, anytime his vision caught his mewling wife's, she'd deliciously convulse and squirm.

For several moments, he watched her, finger slowly rubbing circles around her clit and thumb plunging ever so slightly within her, fascinated with the rise of her breasts and the dip of her ribcage as it caved in with each deep breath she made.

Sheldon licked his lips, breathing a long, calming breeze through them. He grazed his fingers over her downy curls, along dark, rosy flesh and promptly sunk two digits deep within her, twisting them until they jerked sharply at their limit. Amy yelped at the sudden invasion, but it instantly devolved into sweet cries, every so often a word would bellow through her lips – begging.

"Sheldon – Ah! – please." A torturous melody if there ever was one. He bent forward, peering at her through thick lashes as he drive his lengthy fingers into her, over and over in a solid rhythm. He could feel her constricting around them, as if trying to trap them within her depths, so close but missing that little push that would sent her catapulting over the edge.

Calming his breathing as much as possible – the vigorous motions of his thrusting arm left him in a state of short panting – Sheldon hovered down until he could only see the hollow of her neck straight ahead, her head tilted far back into the bed. He shook away the shudder that plagued his bones from the aroma that invaded, and the wet sounds of his working hand.

Then, crouching down upon the weight of his other hand, Sheldon buried the length of his hot tongue into her folds and raked it up over her pleasure center in an agonizingly slow stroke. A guttural scream ripped from Amy's throat, fingers clung to his scalp desperately as he repeated the motion, twirling the tip of the muscle around the bud before taking it into his mouth.

When he curled his middle finger inside – pressing hard up against the rough upper wall – and his mouth and tongue sucked and flicked above on her throbbing nub, all at once Amy arched off the bed, letting out a hard moan and clawed forcefully at his short hair. His fingers slowly maintained a steady thrust as she rode out the overwhelming wave of her orgasm, blue eyes taking in everything it could catch in its sight.

After several moments, Amy finally let her body relax back on to the bed and her respiration calm into silence. She peered at him through drunken green orbs, blinking slowly as she took in his appearance as if she were seeing a lucid dream. He wasn't surprised by this, she always reacted so splendidly when he touched her with such raw attention. Sheldon's mouth curved into a small smile, crawling up over her to press a quick peck to her forehead. He could still smell a lingering of her natural scent from his lips and the velvet taste on his tongue; he cursed the twitch in his briefs as the thought crossed through him.

His hips jolted violently as Amy lifted a leg and brushed it fully against his throbbing member; he knew she was encouraging him to continue.

Oh lord, did he _want_ _to_.

This was where the game would change though, her words would start to surface and reveal her locked up heart in a restrictive cage, guarding her from the reality she forced upon herself. Sheldon knew this was it, and if he didn't make _sure _she understood, then it would be just like all the others.

And he'd have to watch her heart break once again.

"Sheldon," she whispered, but he immediately hushed her with a hand over her mouth.

_No. _

"Amy, please," he murmured back into her ear, cradling a warm palm across her cheek to press it against his own. "It's okay to turn your mind off tonight."

The very same thing she had told him, years before – the very phrase had been a mind-numbing catharsis back then; eight simple words that told all there was to tell from one frightened and inexperienced woman to one frightened and inexperienced man.

_Nothing will change. I'll still be here, with you, no matter what happens. Always. _

He felt her breath catch, a tiny gasp so close to his ear. She remembered, he knew she did by the way she trembled in his hold and a little hiccup burst forth. Sheldon felt the wetness of tears that dribbled down between their touching cheeks and he moved his hand to caress her hair soothingly. Their bodies pressed together, flush from chest to toes, and eventually, their lips too met in a fevered kiss.

There was no rush, no restraints, no expectations – they simply enjoyed each other, a passion that had been long buried under the chains of bringing new life and the stress of repeated failure. Her lips pressed wet kisses upon his lips, his jaw, the hollow of his neck as needy fingers reached down to shrug Sheldon's last piece of clothing from his hips and down his thighs.

His mouth surrounded a pert nipple, nipping it playfully with his teeth as her hands caressed his member, coaxing it and teasing it with languid strokes. Sheldon groaned against her breast, grinding into her grasp with desire. He heard a hum from above as her ankles hooked around his buttocks and pulled him on to her fully, penis flush against Amy's still very wet folds.

Not a breath passed between them as he sank into her, sheathing fully within her in one unhurried thrust.

_Oh, sweet lord. _

He drove into her, over and over, in a slow and tantalizing dance; his hands held her hips tightly and her own arms enveloped his neck. They simply moved together, breathed together, moaned together as if this was the first time they truly had experienced each other in what felt like forever. The chains completely broken, long forgotten along with the burden of defeat and pain of a harsh reality that had settled like a murky fog around them for the countless months behind them.

Making love, for the sake of making love, and that was it.

Soon, they became trapped in their passion, voices hoarse from endless moans and cries, bodies driven to state of possession – falling deeper and deeper under the waves. His thrusts were rough, one of Amy's ankles hiked high up over his shoulder to allow an even deeper penetration. Her husky vocals chanted his name in forced gasps as he pounded hard into her slick arousal.

Sheldon felt the coil painfully tighten in his gut and loins, strangling the breath from his lips and jolting beads of sweat from his brow. It was as if they had been taken over by something primal – a desperation sought to keep them connected in the most thorough way possible, but bring them to the brink of insanity at the same time.

His erection pulsed inside her, each thrust tipping him closer and closer to the edge, until a sudden torrent of white and heat and electrifying bursts shot from him in spurts, filling her to the brim as she squeezed around him in an attempt to milk him dry and to achieve her own zenith.

Determined to let her peak a second – maybe even third at this point – time, Sheldon's thumb delved down between her folds to work her warm bud, rubbing and riding the ends of his orgasm together in a parallel rhythm.

She came undone moments later, and Sheldon swore it was one of the most beautiful things he had ever seen. The moonlight colored her arched belly in a pale light, and the noise from her throat – a mix of a sigh and mewl – echoed in his ears as she pulled him down to her. He looked down at her, still pressing light kisses to her face as she calmed, and hesitantly, almost fearfully, raised his blue eyes to meet hers.

There it was – the green and the specks of gold and the warm glow. Their connection, the open window that bridged his world to her own, was reborn and just as vast as before. If there was anything to be thankful for, it would have been that for Sheldon. The look that passed between them right before they fell asleep left him feeling right for the first time in a long while – just like so long ago – they were freed from their binds.

The next morning, Sheldon awoke to a warm Amy nuzzled against his side. He peered down at her, feeling like he hadn't seen this scene before him in years, even if it had been much less. Blindly, he reached for his phone on the nightstand to check the time.

One missed call, two text messages.

Curious, he checked the sender; it was Bernadette. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes, his brain becoming alert as he opened the first message. _Howard and I paid a visit to Amy at work earlier – she seems really sick and we're a bit worried. I'm sure it's just the stress, and we managed to calm her... but I hope you guys can work out whatever is happening. Let us know if you need anything._

Sheldon paused, starting at the message in a confused manner. She had been sick? Was she still feeling ill, and had not told him? Guilt started to prod at him as he skipped over to the next message.

_I talked to my mother this morning, you might want to bring Amy to the hospital to get her checked out._

He didn't even bother to listen to the voice mail; his body was in panic mode and he shook his wife awake gently on the shoulder to rouse her from slumber. Her sleepy eyes opened slowly, and regarded him quietly as he climbed out of bed.

"Mm, what's wrong? It's so early."

"Amy, we need to go to the clinic. _Now_."

* * *

The sole occupant of the small waiting room sat fidgeting in his seat, Sheldon's leg jumped up and down frantically as he stared intensely at the double doors in the north end of the room. This could not be happening, Amy couldn't be sick! How could he have done this when she was in this condition? He continued to mentally berate himself, mind crushing him with all the things that could be wrong with his wife.

He abruptly stood and paced about the room, ignoring the weird looks the receptionist was giving him. Sheldon couldn't calm himself, couldn't stop the room from spinning around like a toy top.

_Amy. Amy. Amy._

The creaking of the hinges behind him made him whirl around so hard he swore he could have given himself whiplash. There, standing awkwardly and ever so pale, was Amy. Her hands squeezed tightly on the fabric of her dress, directly over her tummy.

She announced in a small, unbelieving voice to her alarmed husband as he approached her at the door.

"I'm pregnant – Seven weeks along."

Blue eyes widened, his fingers and toes went numb and then, as if all the chaos left him in a sudden, raging explosion, Sheldon fell limp to the floor.

* * *

**End Note: Well...I'm sure this wasn't what people were expecting, huh? Haha. I had this planned from the start though, believe it or not. I suppose not everything is sunshine and daisies, but all turned out nicely in the end, yes? There is only one chapter left, I think anyway, who knows with how long I tend to make these chapters. /is shot **

**Anyway, I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter, please do let me know what you think! Have a good one! **


	9. Family

**The Emotion Amplification – Chapter 9 - Family**

**Disclaimer: We all know the drill. **

**Note: I'm extremely sorry for the very late update! I never expected work to get as hectic and busy so fast – literally hit me out of nowhere and left me unable to even write several days. /bows **

**Anyway, here it is – the final chapter – in all its huge glory. Once again – and for the last time in this story – I thank my bestie and beta, teoriapostmoderna, she's one of my big motivational cheerleaders! /insert SO many hearts I also thank all of you, for reading, following, favoriting, reviewing, any and all of it. You all are truly great.**

**It's sincerely been a pleasure and I hope you all enjoy~**

* * *

"Amy, are you entirely certain that you want me to do this?"

"Yes, yes, just do it," came the small whining reply; she was squirming, her vision zeroed in on the hand that was directly in front of her. "I want it so bad."

Sheldon remained still, arm hovering dangerously close over his target, eyes taking in the needy face of his wife. This really was not a good idea, not even a little, but he couldn't find the heart to deny her. Though in reality, it was more like –

"Sheldon~" Amy's soft, low tone tingled in his ears. He really cursed that ability of hers, tuning her vocals to – _Let's make Sheldon a gooey mess on the floor – _in a manner so simple, it was as if she easily switched the frequency of a radio with the turn of the dial. It wasn't as if the brunette in front of him wasn't attractive or alluring before, but apparently pregnant women – or in his case, just Amy – knew how to crank the shiver inducing ability up to eleven with relative ease.

He sighed to himself, giving in without much battle, and nodded to his anxious wife, "Alright, just tell me when you are satisfied." Then, Sheldon squeezed, and squeezed, and squeezed. He lifted his gaze up to Amy, who was staring intently at his hand as if in a trance, lip between her teeth as she sighed. Sheldon swallowed hard; a sweet scent – intoxicating and powerful – was invading his nasal cavities and making him dizzy.

_Oh dear lord. _

"Amy, please," he eyed her nervously. "There is a high chance that I will be soon experiencing neurasthenia; say it's enough."

Amy, whose hands were flat and fingers dancing about with glee, peered between them, "Mm, perfect. Thank you, Sheldon."

He let out the biggest sigh of his life – though it was more like today, as he seemed to keep breaking that record with every action his wife took – and let his body relax, "Really, Amy, maple syrup? I can practically taste the high fructose corn syrup from the steam of your tea."

She smiled, pulling the yellow mug to her and inhaled the vapors, "Nnn, you're right."

Sheldon shivered as she took a sip and shook his head, coming to a very obvious conclusion: Cravings were scary. Or abhorrent, nauseating, mind-boggling – all were equally viable descriptions.

Amy was reaching the end of her eighteenth week of pregnancy, and while Sheldon was very relieved her morning sickness had mostly dissipated, her increasing appetite lead to those insane cravings that he heard horror stories about from Leonard. Though, if he were to be honest, insane didn't even begin to describe the wacky combinations Amy put into her mouth.

He mentally counted through the list of odd foods he'd acquired for her, trying hard to avoid the sight of her sipping the sugar-coma concoction. There was the mint tea with maple syrup she was drinking now, cheese pizza with grape jelly, and once she tried to get him to buy her Chinese take out – the last of such seemed not so outrageous but he absolutely refused, as eating fried meats made her sick even before she was carrying – and many, many more. Amy was definitely one of the most intriguing women Sheldon ever encountered; he was waiting for her to request something even more gut-turning one of these days and wondered if he'd be able to handle the next brew that would top even tea with syrup.

Still, he knew she couldn't help it, and chuckled, "Have to be an ostentatious oddball, don't you?" He circled around the island and pressed a quick peck to Amy's temple.

"Naturally," she beamed happily, watching him step away. "Where are you going?"

"I'm going to shower," he replied simply as he lazily moved towards the hall. "...no more syrup."

"Awww."

"You heard me," the humor in his voice was obvious, and before he disappeared down the corridor, Sheldon pivoted on his foot and pointed an index finger at his wife. "Behave."

Those playful green eyes of hers rose up to meet his, "I will, I will. If I wanted to be naughty, I'd much rather frisk you in the shower." Ah, there was that sensual voice of hers, wrecking havoc on his senses again, the grin on Amy's lips spreading wider and wider as he jerked in his spot. A sputtering cough bubbled from his throat; _Amy the Vixen strikes again_, he mused to himself as he felt the warmth of his reddened ears. Shaking out the shiver within his skin from her teasing, Sheldon went to the bathroom.

Closing the door behind him, Sheldon let out a long-winded sigh. That woman was seriously radiating a glow that shook him hard. It wasn't as if they stopped their intimate activities – on the contrary Amy prowled like a fevered wildcat ready to devour her prey, which was crazy and amazing in its own right. Her skin was back to its natural sun-kissed tan, of which Sheldon loved to compare the subtle contrast between his pale hand and her lightly bronzed thigh when he'd run caresses down–

_Really should stop thinking about that..._

He yanked the shower curtain open with a quick jerk, and crouched near the tub to rotate the faucets. Water spilled out, steam slowly accumulating as the temperature rose, leaving an aura of heat and comfort. A nice, quick shower to calm his nerves and awaken his mind – a perfect start to the day ahead.

Hm, who was he kidding?

He let his arm dangle over the side of the tub, hand briefly testing the water as it gushed over his palm. Hot, but not too hot – just need to find that thermometer to be sure. Sheldon reached to the bottom and clicked the large circular button closed, watching silently as the water began to slowly inch its way across the surface. With a faint smile, he tilted his head back and closed his eyes.

_Grab your goggles, put your lab coat on. Here he comes, Professor Proton..._ _One, two, three – _

A series of three knocks tapped quietly on the bathroom door, "Sheldon?"

Sheldon's lids lulled open as he stood to his feet, a grin splitting his face. He called out to her and soon after, Amy let herself into the bathroom, green eyes watching him shyly. Once again, he was internally chuckling at how perfect his timing had become in her habits – this was not the first time she invaded in his bathing time while pregnant, and most definitely not the last.

Tossing his head sideways briefly, Sheldon motioned her to him, " Come 'ere."

The soft violet robe fluttered about as Amy trotted merrily towards him, a toothy white grin plastered on her face as she plopped herself into his chest. He steadied her with a hand, and peered down at the crown of her head – her much shorter stature allowed him to prop his chin upon it.

"We can't take too long today; the appointment is in exactly – " he lifted his arm to glance at the shiny watch on his wrist. "One hour and forty-four minutes."

"Okay~" came the sing-song reply.

Less than ten minutes later, the tub was filled with steamy hot water (checked with a thermometer of course), and the two of them nestled together to one side – Amy sitting against Sheldon's chest. Her head laid gently in the crook of his neck, hair neatly piled in a bun to avoid getting wet, and her fingers played with the hairs of his forearms as she hummed quietly to herself.

Amused, he let Amy do as she pleased – as was with most cases in the first place – and simply went back over their plans for the day. Today was a big appointment for them; they were going to get a check up with their family doctor to verify Amy's due date and, if luck was on their side, find out the gender of their baby. Sheldon had to miss the first ultrasound appointment due to a seminar at the University that he couldn't get out of, so he absolutely refused to miss this one – the second ultrasound she would be having. Wanting to witness the first glimpses of their baby together, Amy had reassured him that she did not look at the sonogram when the nurse was doing basic diagnostics.

So now, in one hour and twenty-two minutes, mother and father would be seeing their infant together for the first time. Sheldon was relatively perplexed by the level of nervousness he displayed inside at this notion, his hand slid off the edge of the tub and gently caressed over Amy's slightly rounding tummy, calming himself and causing her to subtly move happily into the touch.

He inhaled the scent of the lightly fragranced bath, and the subtle hint of mint from her hair, and spoke warmly into her ear, "Alright, let's get ourselves cleaned up and ready before we prune up in here." He watched her hands spill up from the surface of the water, palms up and holding a puddle of the steaming liquid, and how she let it trickle ever so slowly through her fingertips like sand from an hourglass.

"Okay," came her blithe reply.

* * *

"Hello there Dr. and Dr. Cooper, come in," the voice of their family doctor, warm and friendly in the small clinic room, gestured the pair inside with a wave. Sheldon regarded her with a nod while Amy gave a quick verbal greeting as she moved to the examination bed. The perfectly symmetrical and straight blonde hair of Doctor Marian Temm seemed to fluff with a perfect flutter as she tilted her head to the side, standing as she observed the slight wince in Amy's expression.

Sheldon was just helping Amy to sit comfortably on the edge, holding a firm hand to her back to keep her steady when he carefully eyed the woman as she set the clipboard of Amy's information on the nearby desk and approached the pair.

"And how are we holding up this week, Amy? You're entering your nineteenth week here soon, so I can only imagine your body is starting to adjust to the various changes from the baby," she paused to lean around Amy's waist, hands pressing into several spots on her sides and lower spine. When a certain touch caused the brunette to flinch, Sheldon's hackles flared ever so slightly and his blue stare narrowed.

"Is that necessary when she's clearly in pain?" A perfectly reasonable question in Sheldon's mind; it was obvious Amy was uncomfortable and here this woman was poking and prodding the very area of cause. His wife, despite grunting, sent him a stare that silenced him instantly. Right, right, no being confrontational, he reminded himself.

Marian's brown eyes didn't even move from the spot on Amy's side, "You're concerns are well founded, Dr. Cooper; I'm simply doing a quick check for any abrasions or bruising. It looks like it's just adjustment pains from the baby; this is completely normal, if not a bit uncomfortable. I'd recommend starting to take it extra slow up stairs and reclining your feet when you sit. I'm sure you remember our talk from the last appointment, Amy?"

"Of course, I've also done my own research. It was expected, but jarringly unpleasant," Amy smiled wryly as she slowly eased herself into a laying position – Sheldon guiding her gently with large, careful hands. He couldn't help but smooth a hand across her forehead, moving stray hair strands from her face and giving her a small smile. He then took a deep breath, letting the sterilized, clean smell invade in an attempt to calm him from his constant worrying.

Amy had suggested this family clinic – a privately owned one by said doctor they were being cared for by – and while Sheldon felt much better about a smaller facility and less clients to cross paths with, he still had that lingering feeling of discomfort of being in a hospital-like setting. That, and the matter of Amy being in pain more and more as time went on. Wasn't pregnancy supposed to be a joyous occasion, and a memorable journey? He understood that the aches and pains were normal, and possibly being slightly exacerbated by Amy's age too, but the knowledge of being largely unable to temper said afflictions bothered him incredibly, like an unreachable itch that couldn't be erased.

"It will be largely uncomfortable in the coming weeks, but if it becomes inhibiting, do contact me and I'll prescribe you some medication. For now, I'd suggest acetaminophen for pain and as much relaxation as you feel you need," her knowledgeable and calm tone made Sheldon relax a bit, along with the light squeeze his quiet wife gave his hand. Amy was certainly right in choosing this woman to be her caretaker; she knew what she was talking about and didn't spout outlandish hogwash. Straight to the point, Sheldon liked that.

Marian stood erect, clapping her hands together and smiling widely, "Now, how about we get to the main reason you are here: your ultrasound."

The simple word – ultrasound – made Sheldon's heart race uncontrollably. He glanced over to Amy, who appeared to acquire the same expression: excitement. He squeezed back and sat silently together with his wife as the monitor and other necessary equipment were set up near the bedside. Nervous, anxious, happy and excited – so much so that Sheldon couldn't stop his leg from bobbing up and down in his seat.

Minutes passed, and soon Marian lingered by the pair, next to a monitor and keyboard, "Ready?"

"Yes," Amy breathed from beside him, eyes already transfixed on the blank screen. He didn't think he could even get words out, his lip tugged between his teeth as he watched the smooth-moving doctor fold Amy's shirt up to show a taut, round belly and started to rub a clear salve upon her skin. Amy jumped a bit from the contact of the chilled gel.

"Alright, just to cover the rounds, we're doing a full anatomy scan today. We'll verify his or her's size, and with that, figure out a more exact due date, as well as make sure everything is developing properly. Also, if baby is cooperative, we'll see what gender they are as well." she winked happily to the pair. "As per regulation, I must ask – You do want to know the gender, correct?"

Sheldon could only nod, and Amy soon followed the gesture.

"Alright, then we're ready to go," with a now gloved hand, Marian placed a small cylindrical device – what Sheldon could identify as a plastic transducer – onto Amy's stomach and within moments, the screen flickered to life.

Then, as a blurry white image appeared on the screen, Sheldon's heart stopped in his chest and his fingers twitched in his wife's grasp until they were intertwined tightly with hers.

There...right _there _in front of them, was their baby – curled and holding tiny arms to its chest. As Marian moved the transducer slowly across the span of Amy's belly, the image shifted, showing a different angle and Sheldon could see the curve of the forehead, tiny bumps of the fingers, a button nose – nearly everything in slow motion movement and blips of shifting light.

"Here," Marian murmured quietly, pointing to a spot on the screen. "This is your baby's heart...lungs...and stomach. Now let's see here..." She curved the device around, staring meticulously at the screen in concentration. After what felt like forever, Sheldon let himself blink and look over to his awe-struck wife – eyes wide and wet with overwrought emotion. His own blue eyes shifted back when a small hum sounded from the monitoring doctor – the image on the screen in yet another position.

_Oh my word, its-_

"Congratulations, it appears you are having a girl," Marian turned to the silent couple, smiling widely as she pointed towards the screen. "I can estimate that she's about five-point-seven inches long, and I'd guess she's about seven ounces at this point – a very healthy point for a baby at this stage of development."

From this point on, Sheldon could no longer hear Marian talk on about due dates and the like; he was focused wholly on the little baby – his little _girl _who wriggled subtly on the monitor, almost as if she were adjusting to Amy's warmth and snuggling closer to her mother. A shaky breath released from his lips, mind trying hard to burn every image, every movement into his memory. He was, for lack of a better word, endlessly fascinated with her.

Her, she, his daughter.

Eyes unblinking, Sheldon rubbed his thumb over Amy's knuckles – utter, unflinching happiness communicated through a single, wholehearted touch.

* * *

"You know, I can't tell you how happy I am that we've finally gotten time to get all of us together," Sheldon watched an exuberant Penny Hofstadter smile as she poured another glass of wine for herself and her equally mirthful husband. Leonard thanked her and grinned, holding the glass up to the group sitting around the living room of Apartment 4A.

"Yeah, I mean, it's been forever," Leonard piped in, voice slightly lower than Sheldon remembered. He supposed having a wife busy with her acting work and two children at home, plus his own recent promotion to Professor status was bound to put a scratch in his tone. Though, if anyone could deal with the pressures and demands of a fast-moving life, Sheldon could guarantee it would be Leonard.

Sheldon glanced from the couple sitting so nostalgically on the chair to his left – Leonard on the cushion and Penny on the arm – and looked to his wife sitting silently to his right. Her lowered lids and deep-set green eyes, observing the people around the room with a touch of scrutiny made him raise a brow.

"It really sucks, not being able to just come here for Thai night or Pizza night, or Dungeons and Dragons night anymore," Howard mused, sitting on the floor in front of his own petite wife, legs crossed lazily as he leaned his head back against Bernadette's calves. "Seems like so long ago when that was an everyday thing, ya know?"

Bernadette nodded, laying a hand softly on Amy's leg to her left, "Yeah, it seems so weird that even we've been missing each other. Howard's really missed karaoke with you, Amy."

Amy simply nodded quietly and squeezed her hands over her loose floral dress, which hid the bump of her belly rather easily. Sheldon wondered if Amy had worn that ensemble on purpose – as she long since abandoned such baggy clothing for slightly more flattering wear – and nudged her with an elbow.

Her eyes jumped to him without so much as a twitch, then shook her head when Penny offered her a glass of wine.

"Hey, uh, are you alright Amy?" Leonard questioned with concern, body leaning forward and arms resting on his knees. "You've been awful quiet since we all sat down."

"Yeah, you are being kinda weird tonight, Ames, what's up?" Penny echoed after her husband, followed closely by agreements from the couple on the other side of them. Sheldon felt their surroundings settle down into stillness as they all watched his wife with curious gazes, while Amy herself sat silently as if she weren't paying attention to them at all.

What _was _wrong, exactly? Amy was acting rather odd, even for pregnancy swings – which Amy rarely displayed in the first place. Worry was quickly replacing curiosity, dozens of conclusions leaping gracelessly into his skull. She could be uncomfortable, or ill, possibly a rare case of claustrophobia even. Amy had insisted on keeping any signs of pregnancy on the down low until they revealed it to their unsuspecting friends, so Sheldon had to imagine she was fighting down a plethora of discomforting symptoms. Watching her sit there like a statue was soon driving him insane, the idle chit chat of their friends quickly dissolving into a wave of cacophony until everything was interrupted by a loud knock on the door, followed by a very familiar Indian man peeking his head in.

"Sorry I'm late, Lucy's call took longer than I thought," Raj pulled off his navy jacket and swung it over his forearm and grinned to the group. "Naiyeli gives her regards, she has an early flight in the morning, but she sent along spring rolls~" He raised a hand, dangling from his closed fist was a neat, white box.

"Oh, you _are_ talking to Lucy again, Raj?" Penny asked, raising a brow. Sheldon internally sighed and leaned against his wife briefly; he really couldn't care less about the whole "Lucy debacle" that the others seemed to like making a fuss about.

From the tidbits he heard from Amy, a few months after the text message break up, Raj and Lucy met up again and struck up a friendship instead. Being friends with exes that broke your heart was apparently a big 'no-no' and Penny made that point clear more than once. Sheldon, on the other hand, didn't think it was anyone's business what Rajesh decided to do with his conquests, exes, or...anyone for that matter. Rajesh got over her eventually, married someone else down the line, and retained a friendship and kinship with the tiny woman. What was the big deal?

"Of course, I can't just let my precious friend be swallowed up by creepy men!" he scoffed as he sat down next to Howard on the floor and crossed his legs. "She asked me for some advice, and I, as her friend and confidant, helped her out. Naiyeli has done the same – Lu is a family friend."

"Hm, whatever you say. You know I'm just looking out for you," Penny sipped her wine, peering at the group over the rim of the glass. When Amy shifted beside him, Sheldon ignored any further chit chat around them and turned to her.

"Are you alright?" he whispered, nonchalantly nudging his knuckles along her leg. A stiff nod was her reply, along with a slight shift in her seat. He frowned, sending her a disbelieving stare before standing from his spot and maneuvering around Leonard to head to the bathroom.

Troublesome woman, trying to hide everything for the sake of a surprise. Sheldon shuffled through the mirror cabinet above the bathroom sink, searching for his wife's medication. By now she was probably dealing with a headache, along with sore ankles from lack of blood flow.

_Grab a pillow for back support, meds, and some water in the kitchen. Oh, she had better stay away from those spring rolls..._

To heck with surprises, he was going to take care of his wife whether she liked it or not, stubborn little thing. Shutting the cabinet, he stared at himself in the mirror momentarily, catching the small smile on his face that betrayed the underlying amusement he felt from Amy's demeanor. Shaking his head, smile widening just a tad, Sheldon turned and headed back out to attend to his wife.

When he returned from the back hall, every occupant in the living room was silent, eyes glued to a certain woman who – to his immense chagrin – was indeed chewing happily on one of the offered spring rolls from Rajesh's wife. He exhaled slowly, watching as his green-eyed trouble maker gave him an innocent stare – cheek bulging adorably like a chipmunk.

_Oh dear. _

Sheldon nonchalantly moseyed around the back of the couch, popping the fluffed pillow on Amy's head, "Enjoying yourself there?"

A happy nod, followed by Amy sticking the rest of the roll into her mouth, was the answer. After grabbing a couple bottles of water from the fridge, he sat himself back down next to his wife – who was now on roll number two – and finally addressed the stares of the jaw-dropped people around them.

"Hmm?" he played it off with a hum, cracking open his water bottle. Penny would be having none of that; quickly switching from one arm of the chair to the other – closer – arm, she eyed him with a dangerously focused hazel gaze.

"Okay, spill it," she immediately went on the attack, leaning in close. "You said you had news to tell us, and unless it's that you _finally _drove Amy bonkers, I suggest you spill now."

Sheldon blinked at her, a deadpan look upon his face. Leave it to Penny to amp up her dramatics, he mused to himself before scanning the group – they all seemed to be on pins and needles, eyes directly piercing into him and making him actually squirm a bit in his seat. Suppose they were going to tell them about Amy's pregnancy, weren't they?

_Hmm. _He looked at Amy, "Do you want to tell them, or shall I?

"Mm? I can," she replied easily, now satisfied from her consumption of three spring rolls. Amy yanked the pillow still balancing on her crown and stared down at her lap. "I'm pregnant."

_Master of anti-climatic, ha._

Even if she had blurted it out as if she were talking about the weather, Sheldon could see the split pause that coursed through their friends – eyes popping open and many shifted to fully take in Amy's form.

There wasn't even a pause for suspense, but that didn't affect to instantaneous – and loud – reaction from the group.

"What?!" Surprisingly, Leonard got in the first word, as his wife was gulping for air like a fish out of water.

"Oh my god!" Howard flickered his gaze back and forth between Amy and his own wife, who simply hummed in approval. Bernadette's lack of reaction didn't faze, nor surprise Sheldon. She was the one who had initially suggested that he and Amy go to the clinic in the first place – she probably knew the whole time but had kept quiet.

"That is so _beautifullll,_" Raj broke out in a long drawl, grabbing at Howard's arm and yanking it back and forth heavily. Suddenly, he stopped and pulled out his phone. "I have to tell Naiyeli, and Lucy, and Stuart! I have to tell everyone!"

Finally, just as Amy had finished jabbing the pillow behind her, Penny spoke up, "Holy crap on a cracker...Ames, you're really pregnant?" Her voice was surprisingly small, almost a whisper. Sheldon observed her carefully, waiting for the impending outbursts and demands. None came though – Penny simply sat there staring at her best friend as she nodded in confirmation.

"I can't believe it," the blonde croaked, a hand covering her mouth gently. "Amy, I'm so..._happy _for you."

A tear, then another, and another dripped down Penny's cheeks as she rose from her seat and clutched Amy for dear life in a tight hug, body hunching over the silent brunette. A warm hand stroked over the pregnant belly, Penny's face buried happily into Amy's shoulder and nuzzling her like a cat, making Sheldon wonder just how much liquor had been consumed by the tall blonde.

"Thanks, Bestie," Amy murmured warmly, letting the bubbling friend embracing her squeeze even tighter for a moment before tapping her on the shoulder. "Penny, you're gonna make me pop prematurely if you keep it up."

The group broke out in laughter, all of them chatting and admiring the little bump of Amy's belly – of which she now was showing off like it were a famous sculpture, a huge smile on her face. Sheldon didn't talk much, he simply watched everyone fuss over his wife, pat his shoulder in congratulations and the occasion quips of them "finally gettin' on with it".

It almost felt weird, having the fantastic seven – together in apartment 4A – talking and eating Thai food as if they weren't all actually living very different lives and raising families of their own. The endless banter, playful jokes, and dramatic exclamations – Sheldon couldn't believe how much he'd come to miss their company. He was so caught up in in just listening to the voices, the laughter – a cacophony that clicked perfectly and felt like a distant mirage of jubilant voices – that Sheldon failed to realize that he had spoken his thoughts out loud.

A hand on his knee jolted him from his reverie, his wide eyes looking around to find everyone suddenly silent and observing him with a warmth that left his toes fuzzy.

"_Awww_, Sheldon!" Penny, who was now crouched awkwardly at Amy's feet, gushed happily and patted his calf with playful force.

"Oh my god, this is like...like Spock proclaiming his feelings!" Raj blubbered from out of nowhere, causing all the males in the room to stare incredulously at him. Sheldon raised a brow – while he definitely didn't mind being compared to Spock, he most certainly wasn't being emotional.

"What? Dude, no, what _are _you on about?" the Jewish best friend of current babbling man retorted, his light gaze fixed with a nasty appearance.

"Come on Howard, isn't it?!"

"No!" Howard's outburst was joined by Leonard's loud voice as well, both of them exclaiming against the worked-up Rajesh. The girls were laughing at the heated exchange, though Sheldon was only paying attention to the bubbling giggles of his wife next to him, a warm hum vibrated from her throat and little shakes from her shoulders bumped lightly against his own arm – which she was pressed happily against.

Suddenly, Penny paused in her laughter and waved a hand, "Wait, wait, wait – Are we talking about Spock from the old series, or Spock from the new series?"

"Are we even talking about the television series? What about the movies?" Bernadette piped up, tilting her head in wonder.

"If we're talking reboot movies, I could see Sheldon emulating that Spock perfectly," Amy grinned at him mischievously as she nudged him playfully.

"Omigawd, are you talking about the one scene where Kirk dies after saving everyone?" Raj flailed his arms about as if he were fanning himself. "I cried _so_ hard during that part!"

"Dude, spoilers!" Leonard hissed.

Raj scoffed, and Sheldon almost scoffed himself, " Oh come on Leonard, everyone here has seen that movie."

"Penny hasn't!"

This time, Sheldon did, "Really, Leonard? And you married her?"

"Well, I'm sorry? I guess I never saw the big deal in Star Trek," Penny slurred, hugging at Amy's legs while glaring over her shoulder. A collective, exaggerated gasp sounded from all the men in the room, each one dramatically gesturing with hands and facial expressions.

"Penny! Surely, you jest!" Sheldon stared down at the clingy blonde with a look of utmost derision.

"Blasphemy!"

"Oh hush, Howie," the petite wife chastised before turning to her fellow fair-haired friend. "Penny, the movies are actually pretty good – they have action, romance, and a rather intriguing plot in each movie."

"Eh...?"

Amy tapped Penny on the head, "Bestie, I have two words: Chris. Pine."

"...okay, color me interested."

"Dear_ lord._" Sheldon shook his head.

He could see Leonard slapping a palm to his face,"Of course, beaten out by Chris-the hot guy-Pine."

Almost as if on repeat, the room exploded once again – the conversation steering clear of Sheldon's embarrassing declaration, of which he was grateful for. As if he needed his friends to poke at him for his little accidental admittance. Oh no, he was sure Amy would give him enough teasing about it as it were. Sheldon leaned back in his seat, letting out a deep breath and relaxing once again.

Truly, his friends were as rambunctious as ever – always crazy, never a dull moment at all – he thought to himself with a (stubbornly silent) chuckle. The hand that been on his thigh throughout the whole exchange squeezed him the slightest bit, prompting him to look over at his glowing wife. Amy was watching Penny (who was now in the middle of the living room) dramatically act out a scene from the play she was soon to star in – though a wine-induced fervor made it seem more like a comedy than a drama – before turning her green sights on Sheldon himself. She smiled warmly, tilting her head towards him, an action which he mirrored immediately.

"And _then_, with a swing of my benevolent hand, I gifted them with the most _abundant _crops of their tiiiime~"

Penny's warbles diverted the pair's attention to her just as she was sweeping Leonard gracelessly from the chair and swung the laughing husband in a sloppy, but light-hearted dance. Sheldon was going to reprimand the slightly intoxicated woman as she kicked the coffee table, but the continuous laughter from Amy's lips kept him silent.

Well, he supposed that a small dose of whimsy could be spared for these friends – his second family.

* * *

"Junior, let 'er rip!" a rough sounding elderly woman barked, voice loud and full of mirth. The sharp, earthy clack echoed, followed by a loud, ear-splitting crack.

"Nice shot, Meemaw!" bellowed the rugged man in a white muscle shirt, squinting dark eyes peering across the yard to the pair on the porch of a quaint Texas home. He swung a large hand out and beckoned towards himself."Come on, kiddo, shoot a round with us!"

"I'd much rather not, thank you," Sheldon didn't bother to raise his voice to reply to his older brother George Jr. (aka Junior); his hazy blue eyes remained steady as they gazed out into the green yard in front of him. His brother approached, along with his Meemaw close behind, the both of them stopping just short of the parents-to-be on the bench swing. The younger Cooper brother regarded them silently, while Amy – in the middle of reading a novel on her tablet – looked up and gave a small smile.

"Done shooting already?" she asked, blinking to adjust to the brightness of the noon sun. Junior grinned a large, pearl white grin and held up the double barrel shotgun in his hand.

"Not quite; tryin' to rouse up this lazy bum over here," he playfully kicked at Sheldon's shin. "Come on Shelly, you've been just sittin' there starin' all stiff-like. Shoot with 'Maw and me, eh?"

_Oh for crying out loud. _

"I'm quite content sitting here," Sheldon nearly rolled his eyes, but swallowed his distaste in the presence of his grandmother in front of him.

Meemaw regarded him with a humorous stare. That never meant anything good – she was scheming something, Sheldon could tell. Before he could open his mouth, Amy had set the tablet between them and started to stand to her feet, swaying a little to keep balance. He reached a hand out to stabilize her, which she accepted with a grateful nod in his direction.

Amy was in her thirty-third week of pregnancy, a mere few weeks left until she was due, and the two of them were spending a weekend in Galveston to visit his folks and enjoy some warmer weather. Every one of them spent as much time as possible with the expecting mother, chatting with her, talking to her tummy, and telling her embarrassing childhood stories. Sheldon couldn't recall a time where Amy laughed as much as she had been the last couple days – his family absolutely adored her.

Amy's mother had been the one to drive them down; she and Mary were phone pals who chatted at least once a week, if not more and insisted that Amy not fly this late in her pregnancy. Not that Sheldon disagreed, he didn't want to fly either, nor did he want any strenuous situations to suddenly push his wife into a premature labor. She insisted she was fine, but these last few weeks of rest were crucial to her having a safe and successful birth of their daughter.

_Daughter..._

Just the thought of having a little girl in his arms within two months was tremendously heartrending. Many, many thoughts ran rampant through his cranium at any given moment, and he could barely keep up with them. Most of the time, he and Amy spent long periods of time just lazing on their couch and talking about this and that. Names for the baby, whether they had _absolutely everything _they needed for her when she came home with them, Amy's weekly check ups, and the method of which childbirth would occur – these were just the tip of the iceberg. Other, non-revealed thoughts also flooded his mind, closed off from his wife at the expense of his own sanity and her worry.

Would he be a good father?

That was a question that popped up more and more insistently as the due date came closer. At times, Sheldon felt like he barely made the cut of a good husband, though Amy would be quick to differ. She always gave him the benefit of the doubt though – he knew that he still had moments in which he could be rather insufferable, a habitual behavior he still hadn't quite shaken away even years later.

He often wondered whether or not his future daughter would grow up happy under his parentage, or would she grow to loathe him for his scrupulous ways? Would she be a gentle child, or a nervous little thing that cracked under pressure easily much like he did. Sheldon really, really hoped that she would have her mother's side of mentality in most moments – in spite of all her hardships, Amy was a trooper and he had to admire how amazing a woman she was. He knew she would be a good mother; she had the patience of a saint and a gentleness that the women of his family lacked.

At that thought, Sheldon looked over to her – Amy was standing with Meemaw, talking about some gun nonsense and laughing loudly with his chirpy elder. Junior was leaning against the railing of the wooden swing, watching them as well with a silent gaze.

"She kinda...glows don' she?" he heard Junior murmur, tilting his head towards Amy. "She must be excited to be birthin' her babe soon, eh?"

Sheldon could not argue with that; Amy had an exuberant aura of someone in absolute bliss – nothing could dampen that essence. If one wasn't careful, he was sure that she could blind a person with her bright excitement. It was a very welcome difference in demeanor than those nightmarish months of hardship and hurt.

"Hey, earth to Shelly," a tap against his temple snapped Sheldon from his reverie. There was yet another person among their ranks now: his tall and bubbly sister, Missy. She waved a hand in front of his face momentarily, identical blue eyes squinting happily as she smiled. "I brought y'all some lemonade, take it would ya?"

He awkwardly took the offered glass, "Thank you."

Missy chuckled to herself, shaking her head as she moved on from her brothers to the other women.

"So tell me, dear, how you gonna birth that little young'in?" Sheldon's twin questioned as she handed the ladies lemonade as well. Amy was quiet then, and Sheldon could have sworn she hesitated in answering for a second – her eyes darkened just barely, but then it was just as quickly gone.

"We have agreed to a natural birth," she sipped her drink casually. "I'd like to experience it, I suppose."

"Ain't ya nervous? I heard they're very painful," Missy innocently replied, though Sheldon eyed her wearily. What was she playing at? Was she trying to scare Amy?

"Now, Missy, hush yerself," Meemaw scolded, much to Sheldon's satisfaction. "You'll be jus' fine, dear. I went through three childbirths myself and it was a piece o' cake."

Appearing not the least bit bothered by Missy's nosiness, Amy smiled and nodded, "All in the journey of becoming a mother. There is an option for epidurals if the need arises."

Junior took a swig from his glass, then set it with a loud clunk on the porch railing and headed for the steps.

"Well, I don't know about ya'll, but I'm itchin' to clear a few more clay targets," he drawled as he passed by Amy and their grandmother. "Watch carefully, Farrah, I'll shoot a bullseye for ya, eh?"

Sheldon couldn't help but narrow his eyes as his naturally flirtatious brother as he lumbered into the front yard, snatching up a couple clay plates along the way to the clearing. Amy's signature low hum chuckle tickled Sheldon's ears, his nostrils flaring ever so slightly.

"Hmph," he sat back in his seat, crossing his arms. He wasn't going to let his troublesome, mischievous, charming brother get a rise out of him. They weren't ten anymore, after all–

"You aren't going to join your brother, Sheldon?" Amy asked as she approached him. Missy had shuffled back into the house and Meemaw had followed to see what Mary and Joanie were up to in the family room.

Sheldon frowned, "I have no interest in taking up such a ridiculous activity."

"Hmm," she hummed again, staring out into the clearing just as another clay target shot into the air. Seconds later, Junior clipped the clay-work with the shot of his gun, shattering half of it while the other half fell to the ground in a heap with the broken pieces. Sheldon raised a brow, and saw that his wife had pursed her lips at the same time.

"An approximate twelve degree adjustment and he would have hit it dead center," she mused out loud, hand tapping at her chin softly. Sheldon looked at her, a small grin on his face – he was just about to say the same.

"Give or take the propulsion of the target shooter, that sounds accurate."

There was a moment of silence between them, then –

"You really aren't going to shoot one?" came the small question, his wife peering at him innocently through thick lashes and impish green eyes. "You know...show him how it's done?"

Sheldon thought a moment, meeting her gaze, before his mouth peeled into a dangerous grin of his own; he could practically hear his own hometown twang in his head as he rose from his seat and handed Amy his drink.

_Well, what the heck?_

What was the harm in creating another exciting tale for his soon-to-be baby girl?

None at all.

* * *

Three weeks.

Only three weeks left until Amy was due to have their daughter, and the jitters were becoming highly cumbersome. It was hard to sleep, hard to eat – Sheldon couldn't have dreamed that he would be as flittery as he was. He wasn't even the one who was going to spend potentially hours in pain and pushing new life into their world. He had read that fathers-to-be often experienced psychological symptoms that were in sync with their pregnant spouses, but he was much worse off than Amy appeared to be – thought this wasn't much of a surprise to the normally anxious and neurotic Sheldon Cooper. It was almost odd how calm Amy was, sleeping soundly next to him, curled up lazily into the curve of his underarm.

They had been to the doctor earlier that day – a routine that would now be weekly as the due date came stampeding into the present, and they had received some unexpected news. It seemed that the baby was slightly turned in the womb, nothing that was harmful, but the chances of needing a cesarean section was higher. Amy had frozen in the office, but quickly erased the unease in her features. Dr. Temm reassured them both that there was nothing to worry about in the mean time – the baby would more than likely reposition into a comfortable point – and Amy should focus on relaxing and getting ready for the weeks to come.

Sheldon inclined his head towards his sleeping wife, watching her through sleepy eyes and adjusting his arm that she currently was cradled into so that he wouldn't lose feeling in it. He glanced over at the clock – just after midnight. Another day closer, another day to flutter about in near anxiousness, yet overflowing excitement. His blue eyes continued to drift about the darkness of the room, sight being able to take in sparse details with his focused sight and the peeking moonlight from the window. The white bassinet in the corner, the two duffel bags near the closet that were packed with belongings and necessities for when Amy went to the hospital, the tri-dimensional chess set that they were playing just hours earlier while drinking tea (decaf for Amy) and simply having a quiet evening.

Sooner or later, he found himself staring at the ceiling, counting imaginary atoms and streams of drifting particles.

Next thing Sheldon knew, he jolted awake – shoulders lifting as if an electric pulse had shot through him. In a daze, he sleepily stared straight ahead to catch his bearings. What the heck had happened to him? He slowly turned his head, eying the clock to read the time: half past three in the morning.

Sheldon blinked once, twice, then once more before settling into a bubble of confusion. He never, _ever _snapped out of deep sleep, not unless someone forcefully roused him. What made matters worse, was that he almost felt...sick to his stomach. He couldn't shake the dizziness – severe lack of coherent focus – from his head. Letting out a deep breath, he shifted his arm that was draped across the neighboring pillow. The weightlessness upon his movement caused him to snap his head sideways.

Amy was gone.

Sheldon swiped his hand over his face; there was no reason for alarm, she was most likely in the bathroom. With the baby reaching nearly its full growth, it pressed insistently on to her bladder, resulting in frequent bathroom trips, even late into the night. This was nothing new; this was nothing to worry about.

Ten minutes later, he quickly changed his opinion on the matter and swung himself out of bed. Why did he feel so odd all of a sudden, almost like a draft of nausea was hitting him in waves and seizing him from the neck down in a plague of discontent. He paced around the bed and exited the room, immediately heading into the bathroom.

There was no pregnant wife to be found, and no sign that she had recently been inside.

He swallowed heavily, standing stark still and listened for any clinking in the kitchen. Sheldon pinched the bridge of his nose – what was he doing just standing there? He needed to find Amy; this feeling had to have something to do with her. Biting his lip, he trailed quietly out of the bathroom and down the hall, slowly arriving into the living room. He froze in his spot, eyes falling upon the very person he was seeking out.

Amy was on the couch, curled up into a ball in his spot. From his vantage point, Sheldon could see that she had wrapped her arms around herself, knees awkwardly tucked up as far as she could get them, and leaned into the arm of the sofa in front of her – back facing the door. He could hear her breathing in short gasps, almost as if she were hyperventilating, but not struggling for air either. Once a very subtle sniffle reached his ear, Sheldon instantly went to his wife, careful to remain as quiet as possible.

"Amy?" he spoke softly, not wanting to startle her in case she was actually sleeping, and lifted a hand out to touch her. As soon as the connection was made, she spasmed, arm jutting out and swatting his touch away. Sheldon leaped back a tad, holding his offended hand to his chest, eyes wide. He could hear her mumbling, but her voice was muffled by the arm covering it. He was only noticing now that her glasses were missing, and her green eyes were very open and alert. Then, as Amy took in another shuddering breath, it clicked.

Amy was in the middle of a night terror – body alert but brain buzzed with darkened panic.

Sheldon was very unsure of what to do; this had only happened one or two times before, and even then she had never struck out at him – he had been able to subdue her panic before anything torrid would set in. He practically shook in his spot next to her, fearing that something might have happened to put her in this state. His mind ran through the many events of the past weeks, searching for plausible conclusions. Many came to mind – general anxiety, Missy's nosy inquiry, the doctors news from earlier today even.

He knew he hadn't mistaken that clammed up look on her face from earlier; this little bump had shaken her more than she had anticipated. He wanted to be upset that she failed to bring this to his attention; he would have gladly listened to her worries – her fears if that were the case, as it appeared now.

For several moments, Sheldon simply stared at her, contemplating, gathering an idea. He took a sharp breath, then proceeded to move towards her, arms swiftly moving around her before she could react and scooped her up hastily into his hold. Her head instantly popped back, mouth open in a silent scream as she tried to thrash about, but he quickly knocked his head against hers. Taking the temporary shocked silence to his advantage, he pivoted on his foot and turned around, and landed them both back into his spot – he on the cushion and Amy in his lap.

Securing his arms tightly – almost in a snake-like vice – around her, Sheldon kept his forehead in contact with hers and simply sat there, letting her fidget about for a few moments. Eventually, Amy too, settled into silence and Sheldon felt himself let out a long breath.

Minutes of quiet passed, Sheldon could almost imagine the sounds of a grandfather clock ticking in his head (as they only had digital – and silent – clocks in their home). He moved his head against hers, placing his cheek on the crown of her head, and relished in the growing warmth of their contact. It wasn't long until he felt Amy relax into his chest – the action relieved him immensely.

Eventually, she quietly spoke, "Sheldon?"

"Mm?"

"Do you worry about this – me giving birth naturally?"

So she was worried about it after all, he mused to himself. His gut feeling hadn't been wrong at all.

"No, but I think we're going to have to keep in mind the possibility of other birthing methods too."

"...yeah."

He squeeze her tighter, a thumb smoothing over her pajama gown clad belly.

"Do you think we'll be good parents?"

A bomb drop question if there ever was one – Sheldon was temporarily stunned, thinking that he was the only one who pondered that very idea. He supposed Amy was just better at remaining visibly calm and not letting her mind run a mile a minute.

Still, he had mused that particular thought many times in the last few weeks, and only one answer really came to mind.

"Yeah, I do."

* * *

"We might need an epidural! Come on, Amy, you need to push!"

Her sobs hurt him so intensely, Sheldon wanted to scream for her. What was happening? Why was this taking so long? Why did she have to be in such pain? What were these doctors doing?!

"I can't; it hurts, why does it hurt?" Amy cried, hands wrapped so tight around the bars of her hospital bed they white-knuckled. She lurched forward with another sharp contraction, locks of hair not stuck to her sweaty forehead jerked forward over her collar as she groaned heavily, teeth clenched hard.

"Dr. Temm, the monitor!"

Sheldon's head whipped to the screen, regardless of the fact that he understood very little of what it read.

"These spikes...compression of the umbilical cord?"

_What?_

"Infant's heart rate is dropping with the contractions; I don't think we can afford to wait any longer!"

"We won't have time for prepping an epidural; get anesthesia ready and let's move her to the OR, stat!"

_What is happening? Where are you taking my wife!?_

"I'm sorry Dr. Cooper, we need to move your wife for a c-section," Dr. Marian Temm approached him urgently, a hand hurriedly placed upon his shoulder. "There is factors that are causing distress in your baby – it's very likely that the umbilical cord has either wrapped around her or is being compressed from stretching during labor."

"Wha-"

"Move her stat!"

"Yes ma'am!" the nurses chorused while Marian urged Sheldon from the room. He hardly responded as he stepped into the hall where Leonard and Penny were sitting on the other side of the hall. Their eyes shot up at him just as Amy – now on a gurney – was rushed out of the room and down the hall. With a last squeeze upon his arm, Marian gave him a firm nod and followed after the team.

Penny was out of her seat in a flash, approaching Sheldon and blazing at him a mile a minute with panicked questions. Leonard soon joined her, though he was silent – watching Sheldon with concern, a hand on his shoulder, much like Marian had earlier.

"Sheldon, what's going on!?"

"Penny!" Leonard hushed her, shaking his head. Sheldon ignored them both, eyes transfixed on the hall that his distressed wife and child had just disappeared down. He felt utterly helpless, and incredibly numb. This wasn't supposed to happen; Amy was going to have an easy birth, a healthy baby – _nothing was supposed to go wrong._

He wasn't going to lose her, _them_, was he?

Dizziness took over, Sheldon's body swaying heavily, and he let himself be guided to a chair in the waiting area just a few steps away. The Hofstadters sat on either side of him, nudging their bodies close in an effort to provide a sense of comfort without actually touching him – a fact he appreciated. He didn't want to feel anything right now, he didn't want to think.

Sheldon was scared.

"She's...Amy's...the baby's...I can't," he couldn't breath; the room seemed so small, so suffocating. The absence of his wife, the chaos that exploded around him in a matter of seconds, he couldn't handle it. Amy was the pillar of support in times like these, and he for her, but now they were separated – apart. It hurt, a lot.

"Sheldon, these things can happen. I'm sure it's just for the safety of Ames and the baby," Penny leaned close, whispering reassuringly. "I had to have a c-section for Dana, it's just better sometimes."

Sheldon shook his head – even if that were the case, it didn't take away his anxiety, his fear. Each second that ticked by, he would be frozen, until he could see her again. He had come to rely on the presence that was Amy Farrah Fowler (Cooper), and even the tiniest chance that would be taken away would not leave his brain that danced on the edge of madness.

They were all silent for several minutes – Sheldon stared at the floor blankly until Leonard spoke up.

"Buddy, listen, it's okay to be afraid. But you gotta have faith in those doctors, in Amy. She's strong and stubborn, remember?" Leonard slowly, hesitantly placed a hand on Sheldon's arm. "How many years have you two stuck it out – worked through all your issues and all her issues, eventually coming together. She's not going to just up and let herself lose all that, or that baby you fought _hard_ to create."

_Right...Leonard's right. Darn it all to heck, he's right. _

He didn't have time to wallow in self-pity, dreaming of nightmares that would surely not come to pass. Amy was too strong, too determined for that sad fate. Sheldon slowly nodded, closed fists resting on his knees as he stared to the floor, eyes focused as he calmed his breathing. He needed to go; he shouldn't be here, he should be there waiting to burst in those doors the moment he heard cries.

"Sheldon-"

"Dr. Cooper?"

Sheldon's head shot up, vision taking in the sight of Marian standing before them, hands clasped gently in front of her. Instinctively, he held his breath, but it was blown from his lips the moment the short doctor sent him a warm smile.

"Shall we go see your baby girl?"

He was on his feet in a split second, blue eyes wide and hands shaking. Leonard and Penny were soon up as well, each of them on either side of Sheldon. He gave each of them a small glance, catching the smiles and glee in their eyes. This was the moment, wasn't it? Everything was okay, right?

Before he could move, the two of them swiveled and each wrapped an arm around his neck, pulling him clumsily into a tight three-person embrace.

"Congratulations, bud."

"We're here for you, anytime. Always, okay Sweetie?"

Sheldon couldn't help but smile at his two oldest friends, his shaking hands patted them on their shoulders – the closest to a return hug as he could muster in this given moment. He felt the married pair jump just the tiniest bit before holding him tighter for a couple more seconds. Leonard released him first, followed by Penny, but both of them held identical teary faces.

"Shall we?" Marian asked, gesturing a hand down the hall. He nodded, moving past the two and following the doctor down the halls of the hospital. They walked in silence, which normally would have been perfectly fine, but Sheldon could only be reminded of his pounding heart, and the realization that he was about to be reunited with his wife and meet his newborn daughter in mere seconds.

He stood in front of the hospital room door, a tag reading his wife's name labeled neatly in black on the side. Marian lingered behind him, clearly waiting for him to enter first.

"Go ahead," she murmured with a touch of warmth. Sheldon let out what felt like the longest breath he had ever taken.

Then, without thinking, he raised his hand to the door, knocking in his habitual series of three knocks, three times. _Amy and baby...Amy and baby...Amy and baby..._

"Hmhm," the lethargic sounding voice chuckled from behind the barrier. "Come in."

He smiled, and opened the door.

* * *

The first thing Sheldon noticed when he cracked open an eye was the fussy noise of a certain bundle of baby crying just feet away. He swiped a hand over his sleep-dusted eye before swinging a leg out of bed. Blue eyes took a quick glance to his sleeping wife; she had yet to awaken as she was a much heavier sleeper than he.

With soft steps, Sheldon approached the little bassinet, "_Hey you_, let's not wake mommy up this time, okay?" After placing a spare blanket over his shoulder, he pulled little Naomi Rose Cooper up with large hands and gently placed her plush, pudgy body upon his collar and traipsed silently from the room. A couple of whimpers later and she was quiet, gurgling happily in her father's arms.

Other babies were tedious and icky; Naomi was most certainly the most pleasing and adorable baby ever birthed on his planet – at least he thought so. She was a tiny girl, a mop of dark brown hair and beautiful deep green eyes (oh was he happy about that one). A very agreeable, happy baby overall who was born healthy despite the little scare during labor.

Sheldon could hardly believe it had already been a month since her birth, a cool January morning was soon to be on the horizon, and he hoped to be able to spend some alone time with his little girl. Slowly, he eased himself down into his spot on the couch, adjusting Naomi so she was resting on her tummy upon his chest. Her head craned up at him, staring with those Amy-identical green orbs, large and curious with a fist in her mouth. He chuckled, stroking a finger softly over her soft hair.

"It's not fair mom gets you all to herself so much, you know," he mused jokingly, talking as if he were complaining to a co-worker. "I have so many things I'm going to teach you as you get older; Amy can't have all the fun, ya know?"

Naomi bubbled with a happy giggle, a smile peeking around her hand that was currently being drooled upon.

"Yeah, you drool all over that blanket all you want," Sheldon almost felt weird talking to an infant, but ultimately did not care. "Just think of all the amazing things I'm going to show you as you get older. Professor Proton we can start you on immediately; even if you can't understand, I know you'll enjoy his infectious charm. Then there's Star Trek, and comic books, and trains – I might let you blow the whistle if you're good – and Doctor Who and-"

"You having fun getting all excited over there at four in the morning?" the soft voice laughed from his left. He turned, finding his wife – in a lovely batman tee – standing against the wall of the corridor, eyes lowered as she watched the scene before her. He smiled smugly at her, playfully shooing her away.

"My baby time, go back to bed."

"Haha, I won't take her, not unless she gets hungry," she replied as she meandered over to the pair, sitting next to them on the sofa. "Sorry to say, but I don't think you'll be lactating anytime soon."

"Hmph."

Amy chuckled again, soothingly rubbing a hand over Naomi's back, to which the baby nuzzled further into Sheldon's embrace. His heart practically melted – no, most definitely melted when his little girl sighed heavily, sleep starting to overtake her.

Dear lord, why was she so adorable?

Sheldon watched silently as his daughter fell asleep in his arms, and his wife leaned against him, head placed lightly upon his shoulder. The scene before him, the air around him, all his senses – his heart amplified in that dark room – the morning sun still deep in hiding, but Sheldon didn't think he had ever felt so warm.

In all his years, he never thought he'd view something as dazzling as this, forever convinced that he would spend his brilliant days alone and perfectly fine with only science as his companion.

Now, with many boisterous friends, a quirky and amazing wife, and a warm, delightful baby girl – a family of his own, close and full of unrelenting love, he couldn't imagine anything less.

* * *

**End Note: Oh. My. Word. It's finished and I'm so sad now. I don't have much to say here. I know this was a long, long chapter, but it's okay. It all had one theme, and that was well...family. It truly was an amazing journey, sometimes a little rocky, but overall I feel extremely fulfilled in finishing this baby of mine. Haha. I truly hope you all enjoyed this chapter, and this story as a whole. Please do feel free to leave any final comments.**

**I would like to, one last time, thank all of you for reading this. It was an honor to write for you. Until next story, have a good one~ **


End file.
